Fire Emblem Awakening: Lights Within Darkness
by Kiiroi Senko
Summary: Semi-AU: Robin woke with nothing but his name and the coat on his back, unaware of the destiny that awaited him. Two mysterious warriors crossed the bounds of time, fighting to avert a dark future even as they struggled to fight against their nightmares turned reality. Now, with the world edging ever closer to the brink of calamity, can they save not just the world, but each other?
1. Premonition - The Road to Oblivion

**Author's Note: Hello, and welcome! Now, some of you might have me on your Author Alert lists and might be wondering what in the name of God am I doing with a new story after having been dead for so long? Suffice to say... my university life hasn't been kind to me, especially with my old laptop giving out on me and costing me dozens of files for all my other stories. As of right now, I'm officially announcing that everything aside from THIS story is going to be on semi-permanent hiatus until I can, in order: graduate from university, and put everything back together again.**

**That said, I'm here writing this now because of a sudden burst of inspiration (and a bit of a feels trip thanks to a friend of mine). I've been in the Fire Emblem fandom for about 15 or so years now, and it's getting to the point where I've asked myself why I haven't tried to do anything for it. I couldn't really answer the question, but I guess it's probably because I never really found myself attached to any of the games as much as I have been attached to Awakening. The realization that Fire Emblem: if was coming out soon just moved me into action, sent my brain into overdrive... and this is the end result.**

**This will be a semi-Alternate Universe re-imagining of the storyline of Fire Emblem: Awakening. Many of the canon events that occurred in the game will remain as is; however, there will be changes, both obvious and subtle, that will definitely shift the how's and the why's of each of these events, with the back-story in particular receiving several revisions and additions in order to generate a much clearer and more defined picture of the game's setting. It is my only wish that I am able to present it all to you in a way that is both familiar and nostalgic, while still remaining a fresh experience for both veteran fans and newcomers. Officially, I'm rating this at M, and for good reasons - reasons which I will not disclose through this AN but will be more willing to speak about through PMs to avoid spoilers for the vast majority. However, for the time-being it will stay at T, as someone pointed out it might not get to a lot of people unless they change their rating filters. The M Rating will only be applied once the darker stuff starts to come into play.  
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**If you ever wish to discuss certain ideas or if you have some questions, my PM box is always open, as is the review section which you can use to send me feedback on how I'm doing. I would certainly love to hear from you all and hear your thoughts, and will do my best to reply to each and every one of you!  
**

**Whew! That was a bit of a marathon of an AN. I hope I haven't bored you all to death yet. If not, I sincerely hope you can all enjoy reading this story as much as I will enjoy writing it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem, Fire Emblem: Awakening, or any associated characters, weapons, concepts, etc. that are found therein. I only own the original character Nyx.**

**Special Thanks: JumperthreeDS and metallover, for their support, guidance, and inspiration, and without whom I probably would not have finally pushed myself into writing this out.**

* * *

**_Premonition – The Road To Oblivion_**

_Location: Inner Sanctum, The Dragon's Table_

_Robin ran as fast as his legs would carry him. He could see the twisted sorcerer Validar just a few paces away, standing before the unholy altar of this demonic temple._

'Today is the day… Today is the day when everything ends!' _Robin thought. He watched as his blue-haired comrade-in-arms Chrom sprinted forward, the holy blade Falchion in his hands gleaming as he swung with all his might. Validar twisted back in a rather elegant movement before bringing a graying, skeletal hand up, azure lightning magic crackling at his bony fingertips as he parried Chrom's second and third swings._

_Robin brought his left hand up for his own spell, but the mental incantation faded as his head suddenly throbbed for a second and forced him to hesitate. In the meantime, he danced around the engagement between the Exalt and the Grimleal's High Priest, sparks flying and lightning arcing and crackling over Falchion's blade as Validar and Chrom fought for supremacy. Corrupted magic and sacred steel clashed again and again, explosions of energy marking where the two met every time._

'Focus, damn you! Focus! Pull yourself together, Chrom needs you to back him up!' _Robin mentally berated himself as he watched Chrom get knocked back by a particularly powerful blast from Validar, the Prince-Exalt rolling forward to evade a burst of demonic fire magic that slammed down at him. Shaking his head, brilliant golden energy focused itself in the palm of Robin's left hand as Validar leaped up high over Chrom's counterattack._

_"Robin! Up there!" the blue-haired swordsman yelled, causing Robin to look up just in time to see Validar gather energy and release a powerful fire spell._

_An explosion shook the room, Robin throwing himself back just in time to avoid the blast's area of impact. "Thoron!" he cried out, letting loose a furious bolt of lightning at the magic circle Validar was standing on. The demonic sorcerer phased out of existence, allowing Robin's spell to slice through the magic circle and impact upon the roof of the Inner Sanctum in a fiery blast._

_Before either of them could comprehend what had happened, Chrom suddenly found himself blasted into a pillar by Validar's azure lightning._

_"Chrom!" Robin yelled, concern for his comrade overriding common sense for a brief moment. The smoke and dust cleared, revealing Chrom down on one knee. Taking the spell head-on had clearly staggered him, as the Prince-Exalt struggled to hold himself up even when using Falchion as a support._

_A bright glow alerted Robin to Validar standing directly opposite Chrom. The skeletal sorcerer had raised his hand once again, conjuring a massive orb of energy. Eyes widening in panic, Robin, too, began charging his own spell as fast as he possibly could, ignoring the pulsing pain behind his eyes._

_"Hahahahaha! You fool! Die!" Validar exclaimed in triumph as he swung his hand, sending the ball of pure energy flying directly at the helpless Prince-Exalt at the same moment as Robin leaped into action._

_"I won't let you! Thoron!" Robin screamed in response as he raised his hand and fired off his own spell, meeting Validar's attack head-on and causing an almighty explosion of energy and power that blinded the three combatants._

_Seconds passed – precious, precious seconds that could have decided the fate of the world – as the dust and destructive energies settled._

_Robin was breathing heavily from where he was crouched, hovering between Chrom and a venomously glaring Validar._

_"I failed once…" he said through labored breaths. "I'm not going to let you kill anyone else! Not while I'm still me!"_

_A hand suddenly laid itself on Robin's shoulder and gripped it._

_"You're right, Robin," a revitalized Chrom said as he helped Robin back up to his feet. "We're stopping him right here, right now. This is our final battle! You're one of us, and no "destiny" can change that! Now let's kill this dastard and be done with this!"_

_"Right!" Robin said, gripping his left hand tightly and pulsing out lightning magic through it as a sword materialized in his right hand. "Let's do it!"_

_Chrom nodded. "On my mark!" he said, before the two took off in unison._

_"Hahaha! Why do you even resist?!" Validar mocked as he fired off more spells, his tome flipping through its pages as fire and lightning rained down upon Chrom and Robin. Explosions rocked the room as the two men wove their way between the storm of magic, Chrom bringing up Falchion to deflect the occasional spell he was unable to evade before rolling to the right to avoid a particularly powerful blast of dark magic._

_Robin tried his best to cover both himself and his ally, firing off more bolts of lightning to meet Validar's barrage. What few that made it through were met with Robin's own blade, the hooded man deftly handling it with quick, economical movements._

_"Gyahaha!" Validar laughed. "Fools! Struggle all you want! You cannot unwrite what is already written!"_

_"Watch us! Elwind!" Robin said as he suddenly rushed forward and fired a wind spell at his feet, boosting himself high into the air and over Validar's barrage. With a cry of anger, Robin brought his blade down on Validar, forcing the sorcerer to teleport behind the tactician, several meters away from the altar. Validar fired off another spell, Robin turning to counter once again with his own Thoron, locking them once more in a stalemate of magical prowess._

"_I've got your back, Robin! As one!" Robin heard Chrom call out. The hooded man tossed his sword up into the air in response as Chrom appeared in front of Robin, deflecting several spells with Falchion. Charging up spells with both hands, Robin fired off several blasts of lightning magic at Validar as Chrom dove to the side once more, limiting the sorcerer's movements. Before the sorcerer could react, a Thoron speared through his leg and staggered him._

_"Checkmate," he grinned ferociously, raising a hand pulsing with green light. "Elwind!"_

_The blue-haired Prince-Exalt had already moved without any prompts, leaping into the tunnel of wind Robin had created and dashing right at Validar with his friend's wind spell propelling him forward._

_"My turn! We're not done yet!" he said, closing to melee range and impaling the sorcerer in one swift motion just as Robin's sword hit the ground, burying its tip into the Inner Sanctum's floor._

_Chrom removed his sword from Validar and leaped back, dark energies oozing from Validar's wounds and bursting into demonic flames. The sorcerer fell to his knees and then collapsed fully onto the ground, the corrupted magic beginning to consume his body as blood pooled around him. Powerful though he may have been, Validar was still mortal, and still only one man. Robin and Chrom were already plenty strong on their own, but together… they were unbeatable._

_The two watched the body seemingly burn for a second before Chrom turned to face Robin, a tired grin on his face._

_Robin had been about to smile back and nod in response, relieved that they'd both made it through, but a distorted voice stopped him cold in his tracks._

_"This… isn't over…! Damn you both!" Validar roared in a defiant, demonic voice as he forced his disintegrating body up to his knees and fired one final blast of dark energy at Chrom._

'Chrom…!'_ Robin thought, the world seemingly slowing down in his perception as the spell closed with his comrade far too quickly for the other man to evade it. His body moving automatically before either of them could say anything, the hooded tactician had stretched his left hand and arm out, pushing Chrom aside and behind him as he moved right into the path of the destructive energy._

_The blast connected with Robin, and he saw nothing but white, his body – or was that his voice? – screaming in pure agony. His ears were ringing, his body felt like he'd been dunked in liquid fire, and his head was throbbing like it never had before. Oh, dear sweet _Naga_, did his head hurt._

_As his vision returned to him, Robin wondered briefly why it was everything was sideways and when exactly Chrom had learned to run on walls before belatedly coming to the realization that he was lying on the ground. Robin could barely understand what in Naga's name was happening as Chrom propped him up, steadying his back and shoulders with a strong steady grip as he checked his wounds._

_"Hey, are you alright?" he asked as Robin's world continued to spin. "That's the end of him." Chrom looked back at where Validar had been, the last wisps of dark energy dissipating into the air._

_"Thanks to you, we carried the day," Chrom continued, giving Robin a gentle smile. "We can rest easy now."_

_Chrom continued to speak, but Robin could neither hear nor comprehend anything else, feeling as if he was suddenly very far away. _'W-wha-what… what's happening…?' _he thought, his vision pulsing red as his head continued to throb, wracking his burning body with pain unlike any he'd ever felt._

_He barely felt himself being helped up to his feet, coming face-to-face with a concerned Chrom. His mouth was moving, but everything was hazy, and his body felt like it was moving on its own. He wanted to speak, wanted to scream at Chrom, to tell him-!_

_Chrom suddenly jerked, his eyes going wide in utter shock. Robin's vision and hearing cleared once more as Chrom stumbled backwards, hand clasping his shoulder where a spear of golden lightning had impaled him._

_Robin's eyes were wide as Chrom's expression twisted in obvious pain, legs wobbling as he tried to stay standing. Looking down at his right hand, he barely comprehended the lightning crackling over his gloved palm and fingertips. Bringing it up to his face, he looked at Chrom, then back to his own hand, then back at Chrom again. Only then did the dots finally connect and hit him full in the face._

'Oh, gods… what… what have I…?'

_Did… did he just intentionally harm Ylisse's Prince-Exalt, the man who'd taken him in, given him a home and a family…_

_Did he just intentionally harm – and possibly even kill – the last remaining hope for the world…?_

_Robin was frozen in place. He wanted to move, to support Chrom and get him to the healers. If he moved fast enough, he might still be able to save him!_

_So why… why couldn't he…?_

_"This is not your – your fault…" Chrom whispered, looking Robin in the eye. "I'll be fine, just… just promise me… that you'll escape from this place… with us… promise… me…"_

_The barrier around them dissipating and revealing the scene to the entirety of the Shepherds still fighting against the Grimleal outside. All eyes turned as Chrom fell, gasping for breath as blood splattered from the wounds he sustained._

_The hooded man wanted to scream, to shout, to do something, _anything_. But he was just a passenger now – a passenger and a prisoner in his own body._

'I… I…'_ he thought, despair clouding his mind as the darkness began to overtake his consciousness. _'Everything did end today… the world included…'

_"… So, you think you're all that now that you've taken control of your Avatar…?" a voice called out, causing Robin – the being now inhabiting and controlling Robin's body – to turn, his now-demonic red eyes narrowing at the sight._

_A woman perched herself on _his_ altar, dark blue medium-length hair framing otherworldly golden eyes that were appraising the possessed tactician and the fallen Prince-Exalt with an almost disdainful expression. A short black and purple coat covered an even shorter sleeveless beige dress, tights serving to protect the modesty of her otherwise bare legs. Elbow length gloves and ankle boots completed the girl's ensemble, which somehow resembled Robin's own yet still managed to maintain its own distinct flavour._

_"You…!" the demonic Robin growled, causing a delightful smile to rise to the woman's lips._

_"N-Nyx…?"_ _Chrom croaked out, blood bubbling from his lips. "W-what… what are you…?"_

"_Yes, it's me. The one Robin could never defeat. The one who's here now to surpass you, Grima," the woman named Nyx said as she licked her lips in anticipation. "After all… why stop at being the Avatar of a god when you can kill him and take his place?"_

_Nyx daintily let herself off the altar, almost floating down to land ever-so-gently on the ground. "Now… tell me. How should we start?" she asked sweetly, her grin taking on a manic quality as her clothes burned themselves away, revealing a new outfit that was nothing if not raunchy, at best. She wore a one-piece dress with a low neckline and an even lower backline, exposing the entirety of her shoulders and back as well as the tops and sides of her breasts. Detached, flowing sleeves, leather leg guards, and thigh-high stockings complemented her clothing, while her dress parted at her waist, exposing her smallclothes and the lower part of her abdomen for the world to see… _

_Not that she minded, seeing how she had been draped over the altar without any regard for her own modesty and was now reveling in the attention._

_"YOU DARE STAND AGAINST ME?! I AM YOUR MASTER, NOW KNEEL!" Grima replied as he tapped into the dark magic that had linked him to Robin, to Nyx, and all his potential Avatars, and imposed his will upon her._

_However, she did the last thing Grima could have imagined. She laughed. She laughed long and hard, even as the remaining Shepherds approached the trio._

_"Impossible… why can I not influence you? How did you break the control Validar had upon you?!" Grima asked, a mixture of anger and surprise lacing his tone._

_Nyx smiled as many Shepherds stopped cold upon witnessing the scene before them. "Simple. I refuse to be just an Avatar for you, tied to a single inescapable fate. Do you really think the fell magic Validar implanted into us at birth was infallible? I broke nothing. Pretending that it worked simply tipped the scales even further my way." _

_"Chrom!" "Brother!" came the twin cries of Sumia and Lissa as they immediately dropped to Chrom's side, immediately going to work on his wound._

_"And so the rest of the circus arrives," Nyx commented, grinning in delight. "Come to witness history, have we?"_

_"N-Nyx… Robin…? W-what's happened to you…?" asked a frightened Cordelia as she and Frederick took their positions between the royal family and the two outcasts._

_Nyx stared at the Shepherds coolly, almost as if she no longer recognized them. "So many, many questions," she said. "To keep everything short, nothing happened. I'm simply tired of playing games with you all. Fifteen years was far too much, as it was."_

_"Games… So, Southtown…? Plegia? Valm? Everything… it was all a game?" Chrom barely managed to choke out, his expression one of horror. The way their trusted comrade was so casually tearing apart everything they'd known for all these years… it was too much. It was all too much!_

_"Don't talk, brother___…_" Lissa whispered as she continued to pour healing magic into the wound in Chrom's chest _

_"It wasn't exactly necessary," Nyx replied, secretly loving every second of this revelation and finally being free of the shackles of her role. "But it _was _a convenient deception. A woman with no memories is a woman with no motive, and you and your merry band of Shepherds were all too trusting and naive."_

_"… But why… Why do all of this?" Cordelia asked, before turning to the possessed Robin. "Robin, say something!"_

_Nyx childishly giggled. "Robin over there is simply fulfilling his destiny to become Grima's host, dear Prince," she said teasingly. "I, on the other hand… am surpassing mine. Now that both a Sacrifice and the Emblem were delivered, Grima has been summoned once more… Prince Chrom, I truly must thank you for your help. With the aid you have given me, I can achieve my goal by killing Grima and taking his place as a new god."_

_"You think you can usurp me, child?!" Grima growled in rage as dark energies began to gather around him, the ground rumbling with the raw power of Grima's fell magic._

_However, it came to an end as a sudden spike of pain brought him to a halt. "W-what?! Robin, even now… even now, you try to resist me?! RESIST YOUR DESTINY?!" Grima ground out, before letting out a blood-curdling scream of pain that shook the room._

_Slumping slightly, Robin's body was still for a few moments before he looked up, his eyes no longer a glowing demonic red, but the warm hazel the Shepherds had come to know and love._

_"R-R-Robin…?" Chrom managed to get out faintly._

_The other man turned halfway, never taking an eye off of Nyx. "Yeah… it's me… I don't have much time left, so listen up… Take the Prince and the Emblem and get out of here. Regardless of the outcome of this coming battle, you'll have time to prepare – at least two years. Try and perform the Awakening before either Grima or Nyx marches on Ylisstol."_

'… My attack was laced with extremely potent fell magic, though… anything short of Naga couldn't heal that…' _Robin thought regretfully._ 'Chrom's fate is already sealed… just like mine…'

_"But… but what about you?!" Lissa cried.  
_

_Robin smiled sadly. "I'm… already dead, pretty much. But maybe I can atone for my sins this way," he replied slowly, wincing in pain as Grima roared from within him. "Urgh… hurry… y-you don't have much time left… go! Go now, before I- aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!"_

_Robin never finished, erupting in a scream of pain as Grima's presence once more forcibly overtook him._

'Just for that, you can experience the transformation process for yourself before I destroy you!' _Grima growled out in Robin's mind. _'Let's see if you'll still be willing to fight afterwards!'

_Robin looked back, watching as the Shepherds retreated, Emblem in Lissa's hands and a still-bleeding Chrom leaning heavily against Sumia's back as the Queen's pegasus took to the air._

'Chrom… everyone… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…' _Robin thought, tears coming to his eyes as he looked back at Nyx, who was watching patiently, almost as if she was enjoying the show before her._

_"Nyx… at least one of us… is being stopped here," he whispered. "It's… almost… urk!"_

_Robin suddenly screamed in pain as Grima's essence poured into his mortal body. The Fell Dragon's mana rampaged over his body, destroying him inside and outside and rebuilding him as Grima saw fit._

_From that moment, Robin, Tactician of the Shepherds and Grandmaster of Ylisse, was no more. After almost two decades of resisting its call, he had finally achieved his destiny and made it reality._

_In those last moments before the darkness consumed him completely, Robin thought he heard Grima's mocking laughter echoing throughout his mind as the darkness above coalesced into a form he recognized… a draconic figure with six eyes staring down at him…_

_Nyx could only smile in wicked triumph, dark energy pooling around her into intricate magic circles as she stared down the Fell Dragon._

_"Now, the fun begins…" she said, staring at the clouded form that had once been Robin as it opened its eyes to reveal glowing crimson irises.  
_


	2. Prologue - On the Verge of History

**Author's Note: ****Hello, once again! Thank you to all who fav'ed, followed, or reviewed! I know there wasn't much to go by since the first chapter was just the Premonition, but this is where everything truly begins! This chapter already includes clues for some of the changes that I'm implementing in this semi-AU, and I'm actually quite happy with how it turned out, so I hope you guys can enjoy it.**

**As usual, discussions, thoughts, feedback, and questions can be sent to me through reviews or PMs; rest assured I don't bite, and I definitely will take the time to answer each and every one of you.**

**I won't bore you all to tears, so let's get on with it: the prologue - the _real_ start of Fire Emblem Awakening: Lights Within Shadows!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem: Awakening, or any associated characters, weapons, concepts, etc. that are found therein.**

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_**Prologue – On The Verge of History**_

Location: Southern Ylisse

"We have to do _SOMETHING_."

_'Oh, gods damn it. Did you have to raise your voice? Urgh, my head…'_

"What do you propose we do, then?" came the reply.

_'Huh… now _that _voice sounds awfully familiar…'_

"I… I dunno… but we can't just leave him here!"

_'Heavens above, if you don't lower your voice, gods help me I am going to _make_ you shut up so I can go back to sleep!'_

Groaning in frustration, a young man with brilliant white hair forced his eyelids open, shutting them tight as the glaring light of the sun nearly blinded him – not to mention aggravated the headache he was currently experiencing after having been roused in such a way. Opening them a little slower this time to reveal a pair of gentle hazel irises, he found himself lying beneath a tree, with two strangers – eerily _familiar_ strangers, at that – looking over him. The first and older of the two was a young blue-haired and blue-eyed man, well-built yet possessing youthful features that suggested he was barely into his twenties if at all. The second and younger was a blonde girl with hair styled into a pair of wild ponytails. She was definitely in her mid to late teens at most, possessing active gray-green eyes that had now widened in some slight surprise upon locking gazes with his own bleary one.

"Oh, he's awake!" she chirped. "Hey there! How are you feeling?"

_'With how loud you two were talking, I doubt _anyone_ could stay sleeping, really,' _he thought as the girl leaned in just that little bit closer to inspect the young man, making him recoil just that tiny bit to keep some space between them.

The blue-haired man smiled in what was clearly meant to be a placating manner. "There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know," he said in an all-too-familiar way as he offered his hand. "Can you stand? Here, give me your hand."

Deciding that neither of them wished him any harm or ill will, the white-haired man took the proffered hand, allowing himself to be gently pulled to his feet. He quickly noticed the strange, six-eyed symbol on the back of his right hand, frowning in thought at what it might mean before filing it away for later. What it was and why he had it weren't pressing concerns at the moment, especially considering how he hadn't even the slightest idea of where he was.

"You all right?" the blue-haired man asked, jolting the white-haired man out of his thoughts.

He nodded. "Yeah… thanks, Chrom," he replied automatically, before his eyes widened in realization. _'Wait a minute… Chrom? He was the man in my dream!'_

Chrom raised an eyebrow, the hints of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "Ah. So you know who I am, then?" he asked.

_'I… wait, what?'_

"… No, actually… I… It's strange… your name… it just sort of came to me…" the white-haired man murmured, confused and uncertain.

Chrom's brows furrowed, a hand cupping his chin in thought. "… Hmm, how curious," he said. "Well, let's start with something else, then. Tell me, what's your name? What brings you all the way out here? It's a strange place to pass out, after all."

"My name? It's… It's…" the white-haired man trailed off, eyes widening.

_'What…? Why… why do I know your name, Chrom, but not my own?!'_

"I… I don't know…" he whispered, surprising Chrom, who took a step back in surprise.

"… You… You don't know your own name…?" he asked, disbelief clearly evident in his features.

The white-haired man swallowed nervously as his mind raced, pain shooting through his head as he drew blanks every which way his thoughts went. Images rapidly filled his mind – images of dark places, groups of people, faces he didn't recognize, corpses covered in blood… all he saw were scenes that filled him with a sense of dread, and only gave him more questions and no real answers to any of them.

_'Ugh… why am I seeing these things?!'_

Gripping his head as the pain grew in intensity, the white-haired man wobbled unsteadily before Chrom's strong grip steadied him.

"Woah, easy there," Chrom said. "Are you sure you're fine?"

It took him a few moments before he could muster a reply. "Y-yeah…" he said, shaking his head to try and calm his racing nerves and erase the images and pain from his mind. "I… I'll be fine. I'm not sure if… wait, where _am_ I, exactly?"

If Chrom wasn't in disbelief then, he certainly was now. His companion, however, only seemed to perk up at the situation.

"Hey, I've heard of this!" she said excitedly. "It's called amnesia!"

A scoff from behind Chrom alerted the white-haired man to a third person. Looking over Chrom's shoulder, he spotted a much larger man in heavy blue and white armor. He was clearly a knight, and a high-ranking one at that, if the ornate designs present on his breast and shoulder plates were anything to go by.

"It's called a load of pegasus dung," the knight said as he approached to stand at Chrom's shoulder, hands clasped imperiously behind his back as he gazed down at the white-haired man with a severe expression. "We're to believe you remember milord's name, but not your own?"

The white-haired man frowned, unimpressed by the knight's attitude. "But it's the truth!" he shot back.

Chrom held up his hands to placate the white-haired man. "What if it _is_ true, Frederick?" he said, addressing the knight behind him. "We can't just leave him here, alone and confused. What sort of Shepherds would we be then?

The blonde girl was nodding at Chrom's every point, her enthusiasm for the situation undiminished – on the contrary, Frederick's words and suspicions only seem to have egged on her eagerness. The white-haired man decided he _much_ preferred her and Chrom over the judgemental Frederick any day of the week.

Frederick looked ready to object once more, but he instead held his tongue, simply choosing to sigh and stiffly nod his assent, knowing that nothing would dissuade Chrom from a course of action once he got an idea into his head. Of course, agreeing with Chrom did not stop the knight from shooting the white-haired man a glare that – if looks could kill – would have definitely struck him dead right then and there.

"Very well. Just the same, milord, I must emphasize caution," the grumpy knight said with great reluctance. "… 'Twould not do to let a wolf into the midst of our flock. Especially not one who for some reason wears a robe with Grimleal markings."

Offering one last warning glance at the white-haired man, Frederick turned and walked back to an armored war horse that had been grazing a short distance away.

_'Grimleal markings__…?'_ he thought, gazing down at himself.

The white-haired man found that he was clad in a beige-colored shirt and pants, a purple hip cloak, and a pair of belts, leg guards, and boots all made of leather. His entire outfit was topped off by a dark cloak, a trio of eyes similar to those on the back of his right hand embroidered in bright purple on either sleeve.

His head pulsed with some odd feeling at the sight of the markings, and he wondered for a moment just what it was the markings meant before filing it away for future thought, deciding it wasn't worth thinking about right now when there were more important things to figure out.

Interestingly, the white-haired amnesiac also noted that almost every part of his outfit was lined with gold trim, giving him the impression that he just might have been someone important in his past life pre-amnesia.

_'_Was_ I, though__…'_

"Right then!" Chrom said, Frederick's readily apparent displeasure either flying over his head or noticed but ignored. "We'll take him back to town and sort things out there. Surely we'll be able to figure something out."

The blonde girl was pretty much bouncing on her feet in excitement at Chrom's proclamation, while Frederick simply mounted his horse.

The white-haired man blinked, his thoughts failing him for a second before panic nearly overtook him. "… Wait, hold on. Wait just one moment! Don't I get any say in this?!"

"Nope!" came the cheerful reply from the blonde girl, who offered him a smile that was just a little too bright and innocent.

Chrom clapped him on the shoulder. "Peace, friend! Don't worry!" he laughed as he began to steer the white-haired man along. "I promise we'll hear all you have to say back in town. You can share your story with us there."

_'There's not much of a story to tell, Chrom.'_

The white-haired amnesiac offered up a slight shrug, resisting the urge to groan at Chrom's friendly insistence. _'Still, guess I've got no choice, huh? It might not be so bad, though, going along with Chrom and… uh…'_

He sighed to himself. _'Yeah, way to go, genius. That's an impressive amount of forgetfulness, even for someone with amnesia,' _he thought, mentally berating himself for forgetting to ask the blonde girl for _her_ name.

* * *

The white-haired man walked along a few steps behind Chrom and the blonde girl – who Chrom had referred to as 'Lissa' quite a few times already so far – simply taking in all the sights and sounds as if it were his first time seeing it all again.

He chuckled quietly to himself. _'_Of course_ it's my first time seeing it all again,'_ he said. _'It might as well be, since I don't remember anything.'_

It was all so very interesting, and certainly much more productive than trying to remember anything. All the attempts at trying to force a memory up had just led to a headache, or, in other cases, some of the same dreadful images he'd seen earlier on and certainly wished to forget about.

Sighing ever so lightly, the amnesiac simply revelled in his surroundings, deciding that he could sort everything out later. The countryside was… well, it possessed a serene beauty, he had to conclude. The wind gently rippled across the sea of grass that grew on either side of the beaten path, rustling the leaves of the occasional tree that dotted the dips and crests of the natural landscape.

Looking at the two in front of him, he decided that Chrom and Lissa certainly helped. In spite of the presence of an amnesiac stranger and what surely had to be surroundings they didn't exactly live in every day, they seemed perfectly at ease, engaging in conversation and banter that wouldn't have been out of place in a household.

… Of course, their liveliness was a sharp contrast to Frederick behind him, whose glare probably hadn't left the back of his head since they'd started walking. _'He's probably just waiting for an excuse to gut me, I can feel it…'_ Then again, the sword strapped across the back of his waist might have also had something to do with that.

That thought _did_ bring up the question of what exactly Chrom intended to do with him.

"So… what will you do with me? Am I to be your prisoner now?" he ventured carefully, prompting Chrom and Lissa to stop and turn towards him.

Whatever reaction he'd expected, it certainly wasn't Chrom bursting out into laughter. "Hah! Not even in the slightest," he said. "You'll be free to go as soon as we establish that you're no enemy of Ylisse."

The amnesiac raised an eyebrow. "Ylisse? Is that where we are?"

Frederick scoffed from behind him. "You've never heard of the halidom?" he asked incredulously, before shaking his head in a mixture of mirth and astonishment. "Someone pay this actor. He plays quite the fool! The furrowed brow is especially convincing…"

The white-haired man's eye twitched – that knight was _really _starting to get on his nerves. _'If you weren't in armor and carrying a lance right now, gods help me I'd…'_

Chrom rolled his eyes and sighed. "Frederick, please, that's quite enough of that," he said in exasperation. "If you didn't speak to anyone you didn't trust, you'd not talk to anyone outside of the Shepherds." Chrom then turned to their white-haired companion. "This land is known as the Halidom of Ylisse," he explained. "Our ruler, Emmeryn, is known as the Exalt."

"… Actually, now that I think about it, I suppose proper introductions are in order. My name is Chrom – but then you already knew that." With a grin, Chrom jerked a thumb at Lissa next to him. "The delicate one here is my little sister, Lissa."

Lissa stuck her tongue out at Chrom. "I am _NOT_ delicate! Hmph!" she protested, turning her head away from her brother before offering the white-haired man a cheerful smile. "Ignore my brother, please. He can be a bit thick sometimes. But, you should count yourself lucky that the Shepherds found you! Brigands would have _definitely_ been a rude awakening!"

_'I'd like to ask how waking up in the middle of three strangers without a clue of who I am or what's going on isn't a rude awakening… then again, brigands probably wouldn't be the most pleasant company. Yeah, I think I'll count my lucky stars for now.'_

Still, there _was_ something that tugged at his curiosity. "I keep hearing you mention 'Shepherds'," he said. "So… you guys tend sheep… in full armor… and weapons like those? Is there something about the local carnivorous wildlife I should know about?"

Frederick aside, even Chrom and Lissa looked to be decently armed and armored. In addition to his plated boots and the leather armor he wore beneath his clothes, Chrom carried a sheathed sword strapped to his left hip, while a gleaming shoulder plate was strapped to his left shoulder over what Robin now realized was quite a well-worn cape that seemed to have seen plenty of action in the past. Lissa, young as she was, also wore light leather armor over a simple yet elegant yellow and white dress, a sort of crinoline sitting beneath her dress' skirt either as protective wear or to ensure ease of movement. In addition, she also carried an staff with an ornate head, a blue gem nestled between its prongs.

_'Ah, a healing staff. She must be a cleric,'_ he thought to himself, suddenly wondering where _that_ had come from. _'Great… yet another question to add to what already has to be an annoyingly long list.'_

Still, the point had been made by his observations. Whatever sheep they were tending to, the Shepherds weren't your average, run-of-the-mill poor farmers.

Chrom chuckled at the amnesiac's questions. "Well, it's a dangerous job, admittedly. Just ask Frederick the Wary here."

Frederick rolled his eyes. "It is a title I shall wear with pride," he replied, straight-faced as ever. "Naga forbid one of us keeps a modicum of caution. I have every wish to trust you, stranger, but my station mandates I maintain a level of care to ensure that no threat befalls milord."

The amnesiac grinned ever so slightly. "It's actually pretty understandable, Sir Knight. I wouldn't do any less, myself," he replied. "Looking out for your charges isn't exactly the easiest thing, but it must be pretty rewarding at the end of the day."

Before another word could be uttered, he suddenly stopped, overcome as something _finally_ came to him.

"… My name is Robin," he said, startling Chrom and Lissa.

The two looked at him with curious expressions.

"Strange… I just remembered that out of nowhere," he murmured to himself, holding a hand to his head.

"I'm sure you did," came the instant reply from Frederick, the man's eyes narrowed once again at the now-identified amnesiac.

Robin sighed irritably, choosing to ignore Frederick. "Odd that it came to me just now," he said. "… Well, at least that's one mystery solved and out of the way."

Chrom nodded. "Robin, eh? Is that foreign?" he asked, genuine curiosity plastered across his features. "Ah, well. We can discuss it at length later. We're almost at town, anyway. Once we–"

He was cut off by a gasp from Lissa. "Chrom, look! The town!"

The party of four turned in the direction Lissa was pointing at, suddenly finding several pillars of smoke emanating from the town just down the road.

It was your average town: small and medium-sized buildings serving as residences for the townsfolk, with larger structures housing the town's main sources of income and commerce: a blacksmith, a couple of inns, some food establishments, and a grocer that spilled over into the town square with numerous smaller stalls. Just across a canal stood a fairly large church that overlooked the rest of the town around it, the stained glass window over its main entrance lighting up like a beacon beneath the midday sun. At this time of the day, it normally would have been bustling with activity.

Well, it was right now, but bandits setting buildings on fire and looting whatever they could definitely wasn't the sort of activity that you would want or expect to see.

"Damn it! The town is ablaze! Those blasted brigands we've been hearing about, no doubt…" Chrom growled out, beginning to take strides towards the scene. "Frederick, Lissa! Quickly!"

Frederick frowned, throwing a glance Robin's way. "What about him?" he asked.

"Unless he's on fire, he can wait!" Chrom snapped impatiently.

Frederick nodded gravely. "Aptly put, my lord," he said, mounting his steed and arming himself with both lance and shield.

"Come on, let's go already!" Lissa said as she and Chrom began running towards the chaotic scene, Frederick's steed galloping in their wake.

Robin raised a hand. "Wait! What about–?!" he started to say, but the trio had already gone, leaving him alone in the clearing.

"Damn it," Robin cursed. He was now at a crossroads. He could attempt to run away, but without any memories and any idea of where to go, that was a quick and easy way to get killed. Waiting here would potentially be safe, but… well, who's to say there weren't more bandits waiting around the area? He'd be easy pickings if he was caught out here alone. The third option was to follow Chrom, Lissa, and Frederick into town… but he'd be useless in a fight and would probably force Chrom or Frederick to watch over him, something which could get them all killed.

"So, what to – hm?" he said, having crossed his arms across his chest in thought, but the feeling of something solid against his chest had surprised him. Reaching into a pouch within his cloak, he pulled out a book, its leather cover worn but undeniably well cared for.

Robin frowned, wondering what the book might be before it suddenly pulsed, sending a strangely familiar tingling sensation through his fingertips. Feeling a strange excitement bubbling within him at the thought that his first clue had actually been much closer than he thought, Robin flipped it open, finding the pages filled with complex symbols and incantations in an ancient language that he somehow was able to make sense of.

_'What am I doing with a tome? Was I some sort of mage before I lost my memories?'_ he asked himself, the feeling spreading from his fingertips, up his arm, and into the rest of his body. Apparently, cracking the tome open had reawakened something within him, probably his own dormant mana reserves that he'd likely tapped into time and again before he'd lost his memories.

Raising his right hand and aiming his open palm at a small rock lying by the wayside, Robin read the tome's incantations and released a small pulse of mana. A magic circle formed around him, the same ancient language in the tome's pages circling around him as a small bolt of golden lightning shot out and impacted against the rock, scorching it and leaving a very visible burn mark.

He almost laughed at his success. "Okay… so scratch 'defenseless' from reasons not to go," he said, clapping the tome closed and quickly following the path Chrom and the others had taken.

'_This certainly isn't a bright idea, but I'm definitely not sitting around and waiting!'_

* * *

Location: Southtown

Robin raced through the dirt roads, following the smoke columns and the sounds of fighting towards the central square of the town. His was not just a blind advance – he found himself instinctively looking through smaller alleyways with quick and sharp glances as he ran, ensuring that there were no surprises or stray bandits waiting to ruin his first day.

The white-haired amnesiac barrelled right into a fairly chaotic scuffle happening in the square, slowing slightly as he took note of the whole situation. Chrom faced off against two bandits, managing to keep both at bay with a gleaming, gold and silver sword that had a strange teardrop-shaped hole at the base of the blade. Crouched behind a stall was Lissa, watching and waiting with her staff clutched tightly in both hands. Frederick was nowhere to be seen, although the galloping of his steed and the sounds of clashing metal from a couple of streets away let Robin know where the knight was fighting.

Chrom ducked underneath the bandit fighter's wild axe swing and charged forward, tackling the larger man and sending him sprawling. Before he could finish his opponent off, the blue-haired man twisted, bringing his own weapon up and into the path of the second bandit's sword. The two pushed against each other in a deadlock, struggling to overcome their opposition. So focused was Chrom on the test of strength that he hadn't noticed the first bandit get back up and raise his axe.

"Chrom!" "Brother, look out!"

Simultaneous cries came from Lissa, who'd leaped up from her hiding place, and Robin, tome now opened and glowing with mana. The amnesiac man raised his left hand, electricity crackling in his palm and across his fingertips, and stretched it out at the bandit fighter.

"Thunder!" he called out, the runes of a magic circle forming around him as he fired out a golden bolt of lightning. The bolt struck the man, sending him to the ground. Lightning crackled and arced over the bandit's form, the man twitching only for a few moments before he stopped moving.

"Robin, behind you!"

Acting on instinct, Robin quickly ducked, feeling the disturbance in the air as a blade flashed right through the space his neck had been occupying just a moment before. Without any wasted motion, the white-haired man pivoted on his left foot and rose, the pages of his tome flipping on their own as he slammed a glowing palm against his aggressor's chest and fired a bolt at point-blank range, the force of impact throwing the bandit back a few paces and leaving a smoking crater in his chest.

Having been distracted by his companions' demise, the myrmidon's push against Chrom lost just a little bit of force, allowing him the opportunity to break the deadlock and push the bandit's blade aside and strike him down.

The blue-haired man turned to Robin, surprise evident on his features as the white-haired amnesiac walked up to him, shaking off the leftover electric currents still dancing across his fingertips.

"Robin! What in the name of Naga are you doing here?!" he asked incredulously. "Why'd you follow us?"

For his part, Robin shrugged. "Yeah, I know it's not the best idea, but…" he said. "Well, as you can see I'm armed, and I'm pretty sure I know my way around a fight. My body, at least, seems to be familiar to this sort of situation, so if you'll have me…"

Chrom chuckled in response as Frederick reappeared from one of the other streets, his armor and that of his warhorse still pristine in spite of the fact that his ornate silver lance's head was coated with a splatter of blood.

"Of course," he said, smiling gratefully. "As they say, there's strength in numbers. Just stay close by."

Frederick cleared his throat. "Milord," the knight spoke up. "There are more bandits milling about the opposite end of the market, and their leader is supposedly holed up just in front of the church."

Chrom nodded. "I see, thank you, Frederick," he said, before turning to Robin. "Remember, Robin. We face practiced thieves and murderers. They will grant us no quarter – it's kill or be killed!"

The other man didn't react. "Robin?" Chrom questioned, giving the man a slightly concerned look. Frederick wore an obvious look of suspicion, but the white-haired man seemed to simply be ignoring it.

… In fact, he simply seemed to be ignoring all outside stimuli as he gazed off into the distance, towards the church where the remaining bandits were milling about.

"Robin, are you still with us?" Chrom asked again, laying a hand on Robin's shoulder and snapping the man out of his trance.

The white-haired man blinked. "Oh, sorry, Chrom," he replied. "Yeah, I am. It's just… well, it's strange. Now that I'm here on the battlefield, I can… well, I can 'see' things."

It was Chrom's turn to blink. "See things? Like what?" he asked, suddenly worried that Robin's amnesia was the least of the man's mental problems.

Seeing the look on Chrom's face, Robin couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter. "No, nothing of the sort you might be thinking of, Chrom," he said, smiling lightly before turning thoughtful. "I can… see things like the enemy's strengths and weaknesses as individual soldiers and as a whole unit… and somehow the flow of battle just comes to me. It's like I step on the battlefield and now I'm suddenly aware where everything is and how everyone is moving around me, even while I was focusing on fighting. I… probably must have studied this somewhere before."

Chrom raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying you can size up the enemy collectively and individually at a glance, and maintain focus on combat even while assessing everything going on around you?"

Robin nodded. "That, and maybe even more if I applied myself and used that information…" he said, trailing off thoughtfully.

"Those sound like the qualities of a tactician," Chrom remarked. "There are very few people able to dedicate themselves to such a profession, and even fewer still who can take to the field as you do."

Chrom took a moment to think, nodding to himself before he turned to the white-haired man. "Robin, take charge," he said. "Feel free to direct us as you see fit."

Robin took a step back. "D-direct you?" he asked.

"Yeah! Then we can see who's the delicate one here," Lissa said, grinning. "I may not be able to attack like Chrom, but when you get injured? _I'll_ be the one stitching you back together care of my trusty staff, so you just tell me where to go, Robin!"

Frederick sighed and nodded, knowing anything he said would likely fly right over Chrom's head.

"Chrom…" Robin said, amazed by the faith being shown by the other man. "Alright… I'll do it."

A grin lit up Chrom's face. "Excellent," he said. "So, what are your orders?"

Robin frowned as he assessed the situation. There were seven bandits across the bridge, one of whom was seated upon the steps of the church as he barked and pointed at the others.

_'He's probably the leader…'_

Two robed figures – mages, Robin figured – stood around, watching opposite sides of the area around the church. The other four bandits brandished swords and axes, guarding the bridge that separated the town square from the church.

"… They're not going to be coming to us any time soon, I think," he finally said. "They outnumber us, and they're also in quite the advantageous position, especially if those two robed men are actually mages. They'll definitely be trouble if they spot our approach before we can take care of all the swordsmen and fighters…"

The white-haired man nodded to himself. "I'll try and work my way around," he said to the group. "Just hold position at our end of the bridge and don't engage them until I can take at least one mage out to make things a little easier." With that said, the amnesiac turned to get moving, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks before he'd even taken two steps.

Robin looked back to find it was Chrom, a look of concern on his features. "Are you sure about this, Robin?" he asked. "I don't want you to rush into danger for our sakes."

The white-haired man nodded. "I'm sure," he replied. "Don't worry about me."

"I see…" Chrom said, a slight smile crossing his lips. "You've decided to lend us your strength, and that makes you a friend. Having an ally such as you by my side gives me courage."

Robin chuckled. "Thank you. I'll be fine, though. Just wait for the signal."

With that said, the white-haired man gave the three Shepherds a nod before taking off, cloak fluttering in the wind as his boots clattered on the cobblestone surfaces and dirt paths that marked the town's streets. He ducked through side streets and slipped through alleyways, finding no other bandits in his way as he circled around the area.

It took only a few minutes before he was in position, the bandits arrayed in front of him but now focused on Chrom, Frederick, and Lissa across the bridge.

"Here, sheepy sheepy!" Robin could hear the leader, calling and taunting Chrom. "Come to the slaughter!"

_'Good… they don't know I'm here…'_ he thought, his tome open once more as he assessed the threat levels of each enemy. The leader hadn't moved yet, but the two robed men had brought out tomes, confirming his earlier suspicions. _'I guess I'd better start with the mages first… armor won't do much to stop magical attacks, not to mention Chrom and Frederick will have their hands full with the front-liners.'_

Robin held his breath for a moment as his hand crackled with power. "Thunder!" he called out, magic runes forming around him as he fired a bolt of lightning at the first mage. The enemy mage had barely even turned before the bolt struck him down, alerting the bandits to the presence of another enemy. The opening was all the opportunity Chrom and Frederick needed, the two charging into the fray and engaging the sword and axe-wielding bandits.

The white-haired man ignored the rest for the time being, trusting Chrom and Frederick to keep things under control. Instead, he focused on the second mage, who was now looking at him intently as he charged up his own spells. Robin narrowed his eyes as a green glow formed in the bandit's hands. _'A wind spell… better be careful…'_

A glowing blade of wind lashed out at Robin, the amnesiac barely managing to dive out of the way but still receiving a sizeable gash along his left bicep. Biting back a curse, he brought up his right hand, once more aglow with power, and fired. His bolt failed to score a direct hit, the bandit having dodged out of the way, but Robin was already a step ahead, striking the enemy mage down mid-dodge with a second bolt of lightning even as another blade of wind carved an angry wound along his right leg.

Pain flashed across Robin's senses as he dropped to one knee, a wince crossing his features before a scream from behind caused him to turn around. He saw Chrom locked in combat with the bandit leader, trading heavy blows with the much larger man. One of the bandits lay a few feet away from the duelling pair, blood pooling around him. Frederick was a few meters away, engaged with two bandits and holding his own in spite of the numbers disadvantage. That left…

_'Lissa!'_ he thought in alarm, spotting the girl holding her staff up protectively in front of her as one of the other bandits had managed to break away from the main area of engagement. The large man now cornered her, his axe held loosely in one hand as he chuckled.

Robin raised his right hand, already running through another incantation for his Thunder spell. However, the spell died before it even had a chance to form in his palm, lightning crackling uncontrollably across his fingertips as both his head and his right arm throbbed. He tried again, but to no avail, only coming away with another shock of pain to his head and arm.

_'Damn it, of all the blasted times…!'_ he thought, taking off into a sprint towards Lissa. His right hand unconsciously went to the sword strapped to the back of his waist, gripping the hilt and effortlessly sliding the weapon out of its sheath. As the bandit extended a hand towards Lissa, Robin willed his body to go even faster, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He heard Chrom yell something, as did Frederick, but it wasn't important to the flow of battle at the moment, so he simply filed it away.

The white-haired amnesiac launched himself forward, twirling his sword and swinging at the ruffian. The man had already turned, however, allowing him to react to Robin's attack and sidestep clumsily out of the way. Robin's blade nicked the bandit fighter in the shoulder, drawing blood but not doing any significant damage. The ruffian raised his axe and swung in a wild two-handed counterattack, but Robin had already turned and used his sword to redirect the swing upwards, the axe's dull edge scraping across the flat of his sword. Giving it a slight push, Robin forced the axe out of line before attacking, cutting deep into the man's chest. The bandit dropped to the ground, a wet gurgle the last sound he made before he lay still.

"R-Robin!" Lissa called out worriedly as Robin collapsed to a knee, adrenaline wearing off slightly as the pain started to catch up to him.

"I… I'm fine…" he replied as he looked up just in time to see Chrom strike down the bandit leader, his blade piercing the rough man's chest with practiced ease. Focused as he was on the man in front of him, however, Chrom failed to notice one of the other bandits he'd been fighting get up shakily using a sword as a support.

Before he knew what he was doing, Robin was already running, brandishing his blade in one hand. Chrom turned to him, surprise evident on his features as Robin raised his sword in both hands…

However, the white-haired man bodily pushed Chrom out of the way, bringing his blade up and into the path of the wounded ruffian's own, deflecting the strike before using his momentum to cut the myrmidon down with a powerful two-handed blow.

Silence reigned for a few moments, the only sounds to be heard being the heavy breathing from Robin as he looked down at the corpse of the man he'd just killed. For some reason… he seemed alright with it, almost as if he was somehow used to the thought of killing people.

He shook his head and sighed, deciding it was something for him to ponder another time. Turning, he found Chrom looking at him quite curiously as Lissa approached the pair.

"Well…" he said lightly, smiling sheepishly. "That's the end of that, I guess."

Lissa nodded. "The town was lucky that we were so close by," she thought, before grinning at the white-haired man. "But holy wow, Robin, you were incredible! Swords, sorcery, _and_ tactics?! Is there anything you can't do?!"

Robin had the good grace to flush lightly in embarrassment. "Well, I… don't really know?" Robin didn't need to mention that even _he_ had been surprised. Everything just came so naturally, from his spellcasting to his swordplay… and even his situational awareness and decision-making. He truly wondered just what he'd been before today… and whether he actually wanted to know. His grip on his sword tightened for a moment, but Robin forced himself to loosen up as he sheathed it.

Chrom chuckled. "What we _do_ know is that you're certainly no helpless victim, that much is for sure," he remarked.

"Indeed," Frederick said as he came up to the trio, leading his horse by the reigns. Robin was annoyed to note that Frederick's armor was _still _spotless. "Perhaps you might even be capable of an explanation for how you came here?"

Robin shook his head. "I understand your scepticism, Sir Frederick," he said. "I can't explain why only some of my knowledge has returned to me… but, please, believe me. I've shared all that I know."

Chrom put a hand on Robin's shoulder. "You fought to save Ylissean lives, Robin," he said. "My heart says that's enough."

Frederick's expression was one of exasperation. "And your mind, milord?" he asked. "Will you not heed its counsel, as well?"

"My mind's counsel is simple, Frederick. The fact of the matter is this: the Shepherds could use someone with Robin's talents," Chrom replied, frowning. "We've brigands and unruly neighbors, all looking to bloody our soil. Would you really have us lose such an able tactician?"

_'Tactician…? Is… is that what I am… what I _was?' Robin thought, frowning as strange emotions began bubbling up within him at the thought of that word.

"… Besides, I believe Robin's story, odd as it might be."

Those words shocked Robin out of his thoughts. "Wait… Y-you do?" he asked, visibly surprised.

"Yes," came the straight reply with no hesitation.

The white-haired man's shock faded away to be replaced with gratitude. "Chrom, I… Th-thank you."

Chrom shook his head. "No, thank _you_, Robin. You helped us save this town, and you backed us up when we needed help," he replied. "So… how about it? Will you join us, Robin? Will you join the Shepherds?" Chrom raised a gloved hand, extending it to the amnesiac man before him.

Robin was moved by the gesture. Not even a day, and here Chrom was already offering him a home and a life. Blinking away tears, the white-haired amnesiac took the offered hand.

"I… I would be honored, Chrom," he said sincerely. "Thank you. I won't let you down."

* * *

The town was now bustling with activity again, the villagers having emerged from their hiding places once Frederick spread the word that the threat had been eliminated. Robin watched with satisfaction as people moved about, the injured were tended to by those with knowledge in first-aid and medicine while the others helped wherever they were able.

Robin had already had his wounds treated by Lissa; thankfully, he'd been the only one to come away from the battle with any real injuries. _'If my plan had led to someone else getting injured… Well, I doubt I'd ever be able to forgive myself for it.'_

"Did you notice, milord?" Frederick said, bringing Robin out of his thoughts and back to the present. "The brigands spoke with a Plegian accent."

The amnesiac man frowned. "Plegian? What's that?" he asked, drawing Chrom and Frederick's attention. "I take it they're some rival nation or something?"

Chrom chuckled. "Plegia is Ylisse's westerly neighbour," he explained. "They like to send in small raiding parties every now and then, hoping to provoke Ylisse and start a war. There's a lot of history between our two nations, most of which can be attributed to the bad blood that exists between our respective ruling classes. It's not something to be proud of, for sure."

Lissa gestured at the damage that the bandits had brought upon the village, a sombre expression on her features.

"And it's the poor townsfolk who suffer for it!" she remarked sadly, sighing. "Totally innocent, and totally helpless…"

Frederick smiled reassuringly. "They _do_ have us, milady," he said gently. "Shepherds to protect the sheep. Do not be swept up in your anger or sorrow. It will cloud your judgement."

"I know, I know…" Lissa said, sighing again before forcing a cheerful smile for everyone's sake. "Thanks, Frederick, but you don't need to worry. I'll get used to all this."

Robin raised an eyebrow. That was new. He didn't expect Frederick to have any other kind of behavior that wasn't fanatical devotion or aggravating suspicion. He threw a look at Chrom, who simply shrugged and offered up an easy, helpless smile.

_'Well, thanks for no help, Chrom.'_

"Milord!" one of the villagers – the village chief, Robin remembered from the introductions a few minutes ago – shouted as he ran up to their small group. "Milord, please! You must stay the night! We are simple folk of simple means, but we would gladly host you for the evening! Please, just give us a few hours to get everything in order, and we would gladly toast your valor and bravery with a feast!"

Frederick gave a small shake of the head. "A most generous offer, sir, and no doubt your hospitality would be grand and very much appreciated…" he said politely. "However, I'm afraid we must hurry back to Ylisstol and deliver a report to the Exalt about what has happened here today."

Lissa, on the other hand, was pretty much in seventh heaven just thinking about the feast that awaited.

"Dark meat only for me, medium well, and no salt in the soup – wait, _what_?! We're not staying?!" Lissa's expression quickly morphed from crestfallen to disbelieving. "But, Frederick, it's nearly dark!"

Frederick merely grinned. "When night falls, we'll camp," he replied matter-of-factly. "Eat of the land, make our bed of twigs and the like… I believe you just mentioned earlier that you would be… ah, 'getting used to this'? Milady _did_ insist on joining milord and I on this short trip."

Lissa shot the knight her best glare. "Frederick? Sometimes I hate you. Like right now. I hate you so much right now."

Robin and Chrom burst out laughing at the exchange. "You've… quite… quite the stern… lieutenant there," the white-haired man said in between laughs, trying to get himself under control.

Lissa pouted. "Yeah? Well, 'stern' is one name for it," she replied. "I can think of a few others, quite a few of which aren't good for pleasant company!" That elicited another round of laughter.

"Frederick only smiles when he's about to bring down the axe," Chrom said, obviously enjoying himself, though judging from Lissa's expression she thought he was enjoying himself perhaps a little _too_ much.

Robin grinned. "Duly noted."

Frederick cleared his throat. "You do realize I _am_ still present, yes?" he asked, a displeased frown crossing his features.

"Oh, we realize," Chrom replied, he and Robin still grinning. It took only a moment before the two burst out laughing again.

Frederick sighed, waiting for their laughter to cease. "Milord remains as amusing as ever," he said once they had calmed down enough to listen. "Now then, shall we be going?"

"Alright, alright," Chrom said, still grinning madly. Turning to Robin, he slung an arm over the other man's shoulders. "Ready to go, Robin? The capital isn't far."

Robin nodded. "Yeah, I'm ready," he replied. "Lead the way, Chrom."

* * *

Location: West of Ylisstol

"I told you, it's getting dark already!" Lissa moaned as the group continued to walk.

Robin gazed around, noting that it really _had_ gotten dark relatively quickly. The sun was only peeking now over the distant mountains, bathing them in the beautiful orange glow of twilight.

Lissa had been about to continue her tirade, only being cut off by a buzzing sensation barely missing her lips. "… Ech! And now the bugs are out! Noisy, disgusting bugs that buzz around and crawl all over and bite you when –! Agh! Won goph in mah mouph! Blech! Ptooey!" the poor girl spluttered, quickly reaching for her waterskin to rinse her mouth.

Chrom snickered. "Aw, come on now, Lissa! Hardship builds character!" he said, not exactly doing the best job of concealing his amusement. "Want to help me gather firewood?"

"Tpht! Tpht! Yeeeeeuck!" Lissa spat out the water in her mouth, doing as thorough a job of erasing the fact the bug had ever been in her mouth as anyone could have done. Robin gave the poor girl a pat on the back out of sympathy for her plight – he wouldn't want to know what it felt like to have a live bug in his mouth any time soon.

"I think I swallowed it..." she said, grimacing. "I'll pass on finding firewood, thanks. I think I've built _quite_ enough character for one day!"

Robin let out a bark of laughter. "I think we should also probably think about some food," he said, chuckling even more as Lissa's mood perked up at the prospect of something to eat. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

_'Yeah… thanks to you, Frederick. Thanks a lot,'_ he thought, shooting Frederick a dirty look.

Said knight didn't notice Robin's look, busy as he was with unsaddling his horse for the evening. "Yes, I should think a little hunting and gathering is in order," he said. "Now, who wants to clear a campsite?"

* * *

Lissa looked at the meat sitting on her plate, then at Chrom, then back to the meat again.

"Bear, Chrom? Really?" she said, utter dejection lacing her tone.

The blue-haired man didn't seem to have heard her complaints, focused as he was on his own meal. "Mmm…! It's been too long since I last had bear meat! Delicious!" Chrom's cheer vanished as he looked at Lissa's untouched plate. "What's wrong, Lissa? Dig in!"

"Pass!" came the instant reply, the girl's eyes closed. "Gods, couldn't you spear us an animal normal people eat for once? I mean, come on! Who eats bear?! You're meddling with the food chain. Right, Robin?"

The lack of reply from the white-haired man made Lissa open her eyes and glance his way. "Uh, Robin?"

Robin looked up from his meal, cheeks puffed out from how much meat he'd crammed into his mouth, managing a muffled sound of inquiry through the piece that was still hanging from his lips.

Lissa sighed. "I suppose a person would enjoy just about anything after not eating for days…" she muttered to herself.

"Just eat it, Lissa," Chrom replied. "There's nothing wrong with bear. Meat is meat."

Lissa groaned. "Since when does meat taste and smell like old boots?!" she borderline shrieked. "Actually, wait, I take that back! Old boots probably taste better!"

Next to Lissa, Frederick chuckled. "Every experience makes us stronger, milady," he said. "Even the ones we don't enjoy. It's actually not that bad."

"Really now?" Lissa asked, grinning devilishly. "Then why don't I see _you_ eating any, Frederick?"

Frederick coughed into his hand. "Me? Oh, uh, well… I'm… actually not that hungry. I… I had a large lunch! Yes, quite!" he spluttered, trying to escape Lissa's questions.

Lissa snorted. "Yeah right, Frederick!" she said, completely unconvinced by the lame excuse.

Chrom, Robin, and even Frederick, joined in, and laughter rang throughout their campsite.

_'If this is to be the first memory of my new life, then at least it's a good one,'_ Robin thought, looking at his three new companions as they laughed – and ate, in Chrom's case. _'I wonder what else is in store for me…? Whatever it is, I'll certainly face it with my best foot forward.'_


	3. Chapter One - An Unwelcome Change

**Author's Note: First off, I apologize for the delays. I had to submit many of the trimester's final requirements last week, including the revisions to my thesis proposal. I hope no one thought I'd disappeared off of the face of the Earth.  
**

**That said, this chapter was meant to be released three days ago, because I wanted to commemorate both Lucina's birthday and the birth of the Fire Emblem franchise with a chapter of this story. I'm three days late, and I was sobbing when a good friend of mine tortured me by sending me an artwork of Lucina bawling her eyes out, but I still managed to churn this out.**

**There are several changes in this chapter as opposed to canon Awakening, and I'm sure they'll be painfully obvious the moment you start seeing them. I hope they whet your appetites for what's to come, as I have a host of ideas that I can't wait to implement.**

**As usual, discussions, thoughts, feedback, questions, and others can be sent to me through reviews or PMs (preferably reviews, let's get that counter ticking upwards, people!); I was very happy when I did indeed receive questions from readers, and they even opened up a lot of thought-provoking discussions. You know who you are, so thank you very much! **

**With that said, let's get right into things! Naga be with you all!**

**Belated Happy Birthday, Lucina! :D**

* * *

_**Chapter 1 – An Unwelcome Change**_

Location: ?  


Rain fell upon a desolate wasteland, clouding the air and serving to barely mask the flight of two warriors as they made their way towards the crumbling ruins of what had once been a majestic shrine. The one in the lead – a young man who couldn't have been any older than his late teens – held a hand up as his pace ground to a halt, signalling his female companion to stop as well. The two quickly took shelter beneath a stone archway, leaning against the structure as they allowed themselves a brief moment of respite.

"Do… do you think the others were able to make their escape?" the young woman asked in between harsh breaths as she willed her burning leg muscles to continue to keep her upright even as they screamed in protest.

She was a beautiful young woman with soft, delicate features that showed her tender age. She was of pale complexion, a feature that was further highlighted by the lack of sunlight and her general lack of proper meals and rest. Cerulean tresses cascaded down her shoulders and back messily, plastering themselves against her skin and clothing as the rain continuously soaked into her beautiful blue locks. Her hair framed what would normally be a pair of strong, brilliant blue eyes that shone like sapphires… yet those strong-willed orbs were nowhere to be found. All that could be seen were dull and lifeless pools of deep blue that reflected fear and pain.

Her companion frowned, clearly mulling over the question. His were facial features that were remarkably similar to his companion's, possessing a certain delicacy that would not have looked out of place on a girl but which managed to be tempered by a quiet calm and surety in his expression. Long cerulean blue hair was tied back into a ponytail that dropped down the entire length of his back, although several locks were left free to artfully frame sharp, crystalline blue eyes that were currently clouded by doubts and troubled thoughts.

He wished he could have provided her the assurances she needed. Looking at her frightened, uncertain gaze made him wish he could banish all her fears, but…

"… I'm not sure," he replied after a moment's hesitation, cringing internally as each word left his lips. "We can only hope they were able to do so."

The girl looked down. "I see…" she said quietly. "… We should keep moving… we need to reach the temple as soon as possible."

Her companion simply gave a nod, and they were once again on their way, darting back out into the rain as it continued to fall.

The girl looked down, bangs covering her eyes as she ran. She wished she could have fought. She wished she could have done more. Of course, she could have done just that. She could have stayed and fought to the bitter end. If she were any more foolhardy, and if she were alone, she might have done exactly what she had so desperately wanted to do… but she wasn't, and she hadn't. She recognized that they were completely outmatched, both in numbers and in strength, and that everyone was looking to her for leadership and guidance.

She'd known that it was a hopeless situation where they had absolutely no chance of winning. She was sure her companions did, as well. There was nothing more any of them could have done beyond survive and hope for a miracle. It was shameful, but she'd done the one thing she could have done.

She'd turned and fled with her companions. Even after they'd been separated by the hordes of enemies chasing after them, she still ran. She fled for the one remaining sanctuary left to them, hoping beyond hope that the miracle they so desperately needed was waiting for them.

_'Father…'_ she thought as she continued to run, unable to stop the tears from forming. _'I… I'm sorry… I wasn't strong enough…'_

* * *

Location: West of Ylisstol

Chrom woke with a start, eyes darting about and assessing the momentarily unfamiliar surroundings before his brain caught up and he remembered the events of the previous day. He sighed and sat up, rubbing a hand over his face to dispel the last vestiges of sleep from his mind.

It was well into the dead of night, Chrom realized as he took in their campsite. Left untended, their campfire had long since burned out, the embers doing little to dispel the darkness that had fallen upon their little group. What little illumination there was came from the small beams of moonlight that managed to penetrate the thick canopy of leaves they'd camped under.

The man let the barest hints of a smile cross his lips as his eyes fell upon the others. Frederick, still fully armored, lay on his back a short distance away. Chrom couldn't help but quietly chuckle at Frederick's almost maniacal dedication. He could barely stand sleeping in his own gear, so it was a complete mystery just how in Naga's name the knight could sleep with all his armor still on his person.

Lissa murmured something in her sleep before she turned over inside her sleeping roll. Her head rested on Chrom's own, ensuring that she at least had some measure of comfort even out in the wild. She'd had quite the experience today, and Chrom at least wanted to at least make her sleep as peaceful as possible to make up for it. Besides, as long as he had his cape, he'd manage well enough.

Chrom's thoughts and gaze then drifted to the newest addition to their little troop on the opposite side of the campfire. Robin lay on his side, resting his head on his arm – he'd politely refused the offer for a sleeping roll, insisting his coat was more than enough to keep him warm and comfortable through the night. The sleeping man's brow furrowed as his expression tightened, making Chrom wonder idly if the amnesiac man was suffering from a nightmare right now.

The blue-haired man considered waking their new companion, as much to save him from what had to be unpleasant thoughts and images as it was for companionship, but eventually decided against it. It _had_ been a trying day for Robin, and the man deserved his rest as much as – if not more than – anyone else.

_'You handled it well, though…'_ Chrom thought, smiling to himself. _'Being dropped into a situation like yesterday can be a frightening experience, amnesia or no amnesia… But you, my friend, did an admirable job.'_

Indeed, Robin was quite the bag of surprises, and it wasn't just based on what he'd displayed during the battle at Southtown. His tactical ability was astounding, and it amazed Chrom to no end just how sharp the white-haired man's mind was when it came to that particular field. As they'd talked, the blue-haired man became more and more convinced that Robin had been studying and training as a tactician before he'd lost his memories, and from how the conversations had gone the white-haired man had been an extremely gifted one at that.

Tacticians were an uncommon profession in Ylisse, but there were enough around for Chrom to be familiar with them. Most of the ones he dealt with were in the service of the different units of the Ylissean Army, but there were a few freelancers here and there who served on contractual bases and were usually found in the employ of mercenary units and merchant guilds. Regardless, Chrom could say from experience that dealing with a tactician was not exactly pleasant. As they never stepped foot on the battlefield, they were utterly detached from the people they led, and neglected to train their body and mind for any other aspects of battle aside from studying and drafting battle plans. Every tactician Chrom had met carried themselves with this insufferable air of superiority and self-importance, especially as they reminded him that they were concerned with the "big picture", and it irked the blue-haired man to no end to listen them talk as if he could never understand the reasoning behind their machinations.

Robin, though… he was utterly unlike the stereotypical tactician, in both word and deed. Their time together the previous day had shown him to be a socially-awkward, uncertain young man who was uncomfortable talking about his past and missing memories, yet when he spoke of tactics he seemingly transformed into a different person altogether. It was amazing to see how he acted like a natural-born leader, carrying himself with a calm confidence and a quiet charisma. The three Shepherds were mesmerized by Robin's incredible breadth of knowledge, the man answering questions, debating on the pros and cons of various strategies and scenarios, and explaining the reasoning behind his every answer with an easy eloquence that spoke to a wealth of experience that was far beyond what his apparent years would suggest.

… And that's not even getting into his combat prowess. Never in his right mind did Chrom think he'd ever see a _tactician_ take to the front lines the way Robin had. The fact he'd used both magic _and_ swordplay with equal levels of skill only served to raise his opinions of Robin's ability. The white-haired man moved with a speed and precision that made it clear that he'd trained arduously for much of his life. Robin's form wasn't quite flawless, but perhaps a lot of it could be left up to his body readjusting to combat after having lost his memories of whatever experiences he may have had in the past. Chrom was certain that once Robin regained his memories or gained more experience in his new life, he'd grow to become an absolutely formidable front-line commander.

_'Yours isn't the kind of knowledge and wisdom that we come across every day… Might you be the one who can finally take on the mantle of 'Grandmaster'?'_ Chrom thought. _'Either way, I believe our meeting wasn't without reason. I trust that this happened because Naga willed it. You're probably someone special, my friend.'_

Chrom was brought out of his thoughts by a strange, unnatural sound coming from deeper in the forest. Trying to remain quiet so as not to wake the others, he took up his sword – Falchion – and got to his feet, strapping the sheath to his belt as he grew more alert to possible dangers.

Falchion was the holy blade of evil's bane that had once been used by the Hero-King of legend to fell the dark dragon Medeus. Centuries later, it would be used by the first Exalt of Ylisse to replicate the great Hero-King's feat when he sealed away the fell dragon Grima. The blade was passed down along with the Shield of Seals through the generations of the Exalted bloodline, who were descended from Marth. It had only come into Chrom's possession upon the passing of his father fifteen years ago, during the Plegian Crusades, but he and the sword had been inseparable ever since.

It was an incredible legacy he had to uphold as the sword's wielder, and he did not intend on shirking his duties and responsibilities as such.

Narrowing his eyes, Chrom listened for the sound once again and began walking in its direction. He'd only taken two steps before a twig crunched beneath his boot.

A yawn escaped his sister's lips, making Chrom curse under his breath. If there was one thing that annoyed him, it was the fact that his sister was an _extremely_ light sleeper who could go from dead-to-the-world sleep to wakefulness at even the slightest prompting or disturbance.

"… What's wrong, Big Brother…?" Lissa mumbled as she sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

Chrom smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Lissa. I didn't mean to wake you," he replied, before frowning thoughtfully. "… But… something is amiss."

Lissa blinked, suddenly alert. "Define 'something'."

"I'm not sure…" Chrom replied, frowning in thought. "I heard something strange, so I wanted to go and take a look around."

"Not alone you won't!" the young cleric replied as she got to her feet, stretching and dusting her dress off. "I'm coming with you."

Chrom smiled. "Heh. Thanks, Lissa."

Lissa shot her brother a cheery grin as she fell into step with him, staff in hand as they made their way deeper into the forest, leaving their two slumbering companions to their sleep.

* * *

Location: ?

"So this is the place…" the cerulean-haired girl said as she and her companion stared up at the sacred sanctuary of the divine dragon. "Naga's Sanctum…"

The young man's eyes wandered, taking in the crumbling outer walls and the grand archway which marked the entrance, before his eyes settled on the familiar mark that adorned the main shrine's large doors. "Yes. The oppressive atmosphere is certainly weaker here than anywhere else," he murmured. "Let's go. I doubt we have much time."

The girl nodded in reply, and the pair took their first steps onto the sacred grounds. Faded classical architecture greeted the pair as they walked, with cherubic humans and dragons gazing down upon them as they treaded down the main pathway towards the main shrine. Green grass and flowers grew on either side of the main pathway, giving the pair their first sniffs of nature and life in a long, long time. As they walked, the young man couldn't help but notice as a strange, calming energy crept into his heart. He felt it beckon to him and wrap him in its warmth, washing over him like waves on a shore and offering him comfort and solace as it filled him with a sense of peace.

_'Is this__… __Naga…?'_

He gave his companion a sidelong glance. Her pallid countenance was beginning to show the faintest signs of color, and her eyes shone with a glimmer of life and hope – perhaps it was due to the presence of the pure and sacred energies that permeated the entire area? That same energy – the influence of Naga, no doubt – was probably what allowed green grass and flowers to still grow within the area enclosed by the outer walls in spite of the desolation the world had been subjected to.

"Do you feel it?" the girl asked softly, jolting the young man from his distracted thoughts. "I haven't felt this way in so long…"

He smiled gently, placing a hand on her plated shoulder. "I do, indeed, Lucina. Even with the world shrouded in darkness, Naga still watches over us," he replied as they reached the doorway of the main shrine.

The two placed a hand on their respective sides of the double door, looking at each other for reassurance and nodding to let the other know they were there – that they weren't alone in this. As one, they pushed against the massive stone doors, the symbol etched onto them glowing for a brief moment as if to acknowledge them before the doors parted, allowing them access to the darkness of the Inner Sanctum.

They had taken but one step into the dark when torches of blue flame lit up, bathing the interior in an ethereal glow that banished the darkness within. The two young warriors gazed in awe at the sanctuary's interior as the warmth and light washed over them. The gilded columns and torch stands, the decorative carvings and murals upon the interior walls, the finely sculpted statues and decorative stained glass… everything was still pristine and unmarred by any of the destruction that permeated the world outside.

"It's… untouched…" the girl – Lucina – said as they approached the Sanctum's altar slowly, almost reverently. "The darkness has yet to reach this most holy of places…"

When they were within a few steps of the altar, the mana that had saturated the area rose, coalescing into swirling blue embers. They whirled about the inner sanctum, converging atop the stone monument in a swirl of energy before exploding outwards in a bright flash of light. The two warriors threw their hands up and turned their heads to shield their eyes from the glare.

_"Be welcome, Exalted ones… I have been awaiting your arrival."_

The two warriors turned back to look at the altar… and took a step back. Where the light had been now floated an ethereal image of a woman, one which they were plenty familiar with but had never imagined they'd encounter.

She appeared human, but her pointed ears were a distinctive indicator of a member of a Manakete tribe. Long, silky emerald locks fell across her shoulders and back like a curtain, framing similarly-colored irises that gazed down upon the two youths with a gentle kindness that did nothing to mask the eons of wisdom and power hidden behind those quiet, unassuming eyes.

"… Are you… the Divine Dragon Naga…?" Lucina whispered as she fell to her hands knees in reverence and awe, her companion quickly at her side and steadying her.

Naga smiled as she lowered herself to hover just inches off the ground. _"Yes, my child… I am she,"_ she replied, her graceful, musical voice absolutely soothing to their ears.

"W-we came, seeking your aid!" Lucina said quickly, bowing her head before the ancient dragonkin spirit. "Please… grant us your divine strength and wisdom, and allow us to save our home – to save our world!"

The ethereal woman shook her head, her smile turning sad. _"My child… I am no god,"_ she replied as she knelt before the cerulean-haired girl, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. _"I do not possess the power to create miracles from nothingness."_

The young man's expression twisted into one of disbelief. "But… but, milady! You're the Divine Dragon!" he interjected. "Surely, you can help us!"

_"So I am called by the sons of man, but I am exactly as my title says – a Divine Dragon, and nothing more,"_ Naga replied. _"However, while I lack the power of a creator… I can indeed still help you."_

Lucina's expression turned hopeful. "Truly? So we have –!"

_"Unfortunately, I cannot offer you the kind of help you seek."_

"W-what… what do you mean?!" Lucina asked, her expression clouding with despair as the weight of Naga's words settled onto her. "Has… has everything been for naught?"

_"Even if you were to complete the Emblem and undergo the Trials of Awakening, it would not nearly be enough,"_ Naga explained gravely. _"The influence being exerted by the Fell Dragon's Avatar has grown powerful enough that even unsealing Falchion's true strength would not be able to turn the away the tides of darkness… as the world is now, she commands virtually limitless power. What little strength I can bestow upon you would be insufficient to stop her."_

The young man simply stared into the distance with a horrified expression. "… So, you're saying… that it's hopeless?" he whispered lowly. "Is that it? Are we doomed to failure?"

Naga shook her head, smiling sadly once more. _"Yes, and no,"_ she replied, both teens looking up in surprise. _"It is a certainty that continuing to fight here will only lead to your destruction. However, that does not mean there is nothing you can do."_

"… Milady, please tell us what we can do…" Lucina pleaded, extending her hands towards Naga. "Please… help us protect what little we have left…"

Naga took the girl's hands in her own. _"I will tell you now… your road is going to be a difficult one,"_ she said. _"I will use my power and open a gateway through the Outrealms… and send you back to a time from before these events were set in motion."_

"You intend to send us back… to the past…?" Lucina asked.

_"Yes… before the outbreak of the Plegia-Ylisse War,"_ the ancient Manakete clarified. _"There, you will be the instruments of change. With your own hands, you must forge a new path, and avert the future that has come to pass here in our world."_

The young man's eyes widened. "You mean… you want us to go back and prevent Grima's resurrection…? Do we truly have the power to do that?"

Naga nodded, smiling sadly. _"It is a tremendous burden to place on shoulders as young as yours,"_ she replied. _"However, I have faith in you, Exalted ones. You possess a great strength within you, a strength that can alter destiny, and save the world from the calamity it now faces."_

He frowned. "… But what about you?" he asked. "What about this world? What about our friends who are being hunted just as we are?"

Naga shook her head. _"I have no power in the world you are going to… and I also cannot say what would happen here after you leave,"_ she replied._ "From the moment you pass through the gate, you will be on your own. I can see to your friends' safety, and ensure they will make their own journeys to the same timeline, but my aid only extends that far. The rest will have to be up to you."_

The two were silent.

_"My children… I know it is a terrible thing to ask of you,"_ Naga said. _"You might feel like you are abandoning your world to its fate… but it would be a far greater crime if I were to give you any false hopes of victory."_

Lucina shook her head. "No, I… I understand, milady…" she said. "It's just… a little hard to accept that we must leave our world to save it…" Her companion placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, the girl giving him a sad, grateful smile in return.

The young man frowned in thought. "A question, Milady Naga… Will… will we be able to see our parents?" he asked after a few moments, startling the girl he was steadying. That hadn't been even remotely close to being on her mind, but the mere thought of her parents brought a whole slew of ideas to the fore, sending her mind spinning.

Naga smiled sadly at the question. _"They will be alive and well in the time you are returning to,"_ she replied. _"Whether you choose to reveal yourselves to them or not… is a choice that you must make."_

Lucina was silent. Being able to see her parents again was one of her most heartfelt desires. However, could she truly allow herself to give in to her whims and potentially alter the timeline just to appease her own selfishness?

Although it pained her, she knew she couldn't bring herself to do it. "W-we can't…" she said quietly. "Doing that… might rob our past selves of their own futures…"

The young man glanced at her. "… Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes filled with concern. "Don't you want to –?"

Lucina nodded, her dull blue eyes looking down. "I want to… You have no idea how much I want to…" she replied. "But we can't jeopardize the past just for our own selfish desires… I-I'm sorry…"

"Don't be…" Lucina's companion said as he gave the girl a reassuring smile. "Whatever happens, you know I'll support you."

Lucina returned his smile, although it never reached her eyes. "Thank you…" she said, before closing her eyes in thought.

A few moments later, she opened them and looked at Naga with the faintest glimmer of hope and resolve.

"We'll do it," she said, a hand reaching into her satchel and rummaging for a certain item. "… We'll save the future, even if the world may never know of us. Even if our _parents_ will never know of us."

Her hand withdrew from the satchel, an ornate butterfly-shaped mask held in her fingers.

Seeing Lucina pull out the mask, the young man immediately understood. "I see… So you intend to hide from them?"

She nodded. "Yes. It'll be for the best," she said, although she knew she was only trying to convince herself. She was certain he knew, as well. "… We can't afford to let ourselves be discovered… It would throw up far too many questions for the people of that time if our identities were to be known."

The young man chuckled dryly. "Hah… to be fair, I'm also scared of how they might react," he said, before his mood grew sombre. "It frightens me… the thought of being rejected by the very people I grew up around…"

The girl looked down. "I feel the same way…" she replied. "As unworthy as I may be of his name, I will call myself 'Marth' once we go back… perhaps if I could be granted even a fraction of his strength…"

"Invoking the Hero-King's name? It's fitting, in a way. Just like he was, you _are_ our light and our hope, you know," he said, smiling ever so lightly. "Here… Let me help you fix your hair so you can pull off this deception a little bit better."

Lucina smiled. "Thank you…" she said, kneeling down and allowing her companion to work. His hands moved quickly and gently as he braided the long locks of her cerulean tresses. It was… almost soothing, the girl had to admit, as her companion's fingers threaded through her hair, although she felt him tense slightly as they ran through the shorter upper layers of her hair.

_'You still blame yourself__…'_ she thought as he tucked the bundled up braids beneath her hair's shorter layers. _'Why can't you see it wasn't your fault?'_

"There… all done," he said, smiling lightly as he used a pair of pins from one of his pouches to pin Lucina's bundled hair in place. If her companion was bothered any like the cerulean-haired girl was sure he was, he certainly didn't show it. After giving him a searching look, she nodded in thanks, before turning back to Naga, who'd waited patiently for them to finish.

"Milady… we're ready," she said.

_"I see… very well,"_ she replied. Her hands began to glow with a soft light as ancient runes began to circle around her ethereal form. A bright flash from behind the Divine Dragon blinded the two warriors for a moment, before it subsided to reveal a glowing blue portal.

_"This is your gateway to the past. It will only remain open for a short period of time,"_ she said, floating down to once again clasp the girl's shoulders. _"I wish you well on your journey, Marth… I am certain that the Hero-King's spirit will be watching over you…"_

Lucina smiled gratefully, eyes glistening with unshed tears as she placed her hands on Naga's forearms. "T-thank you, Milady…" she said shakily as the Divine Dragon placed a hand on her pale cheek, caressing it as a mother would her child's.

Naga's eyes turned to the girl's companion, the young knight standing at her shoulder. _"__You might wish to consider using the name 'Kris',"_ she said. _"He was the First among Altea's knights, and the Hero-King's most trusted comrade. Considering your relations, I'd say it's a fitting name."_

The young man nodded. "I… I will consider it," he said. "Thank you, Lady Naga."

The ancient Manakete smiled with a mixture of sadness and love. _"There is no need to thank me… Indeed, I only wish there was more I could do for you,"_ she replied as she began to fade, but her expression suddenly tightened. _"Wait… The darkness… it approaches!"_

Naga suddenly raised her hands, glowing with energy and forming a wall of pure mana. _"You must make your way through the portal now. I will have to leave this place, and ensure the safe journey of your friends."_ With that, Naga fully faded away.

"What?!" Lucina cried just before her companion tackled her to the ground, throwing his body over her. She felt a wave of heat pass over her, the brief crackle of mana letting her know that it had been an explosive spell of some kind.

Her companion lifted himself up. "Are you alright?" he asked, hovering over Lucina with a look of concern.

"Yes… I'm fine. Thank you," she replied as they both got to their feet. The once pristine Inner Sanctum was now in shambles. Rubble of destroyed relics and artifacts lay everywhere, small embers licking at the remnants of the sanctuary's interior and paying tribute to the destructive force that had washed over the pair.

"If it hadn't been for Naga's barrier… we'd probably have been incinerated," her companion said, frowning. "Whatever that was, it must have cost her much of her energy if it was only able to repel that one attack."

Lucina frowned. "That's worrying… but what caused…" she murmured, then suddenly gasped. Her companion had apparently come to the same realization, as they both turned to face the entryway to the Inner Sanctum. There… they could see the glowing red eyes that were the trademark of the Fell Dragon's hordes.

The cerulean-haired girl stepped back, horror crossing her features. "No… how did they…" she whispered. "We can't allow them to trespass on these sacred grounds…!"

As Lucina made to draw the sword at her hip, her companion placed a hand on her own, stopping the cerulean-haired girl from drawing her weapon. She shot him a look of anger… a look that quickly died upon seeing his slow shake of the head.

"There are too many," he said. "This isn't a battle we can win."

He turned to the horde of zombie warriors as they shuffled forward, beginning to crowd around the sanctuary's doorway.

"… You should go," the young knight said, drawing his longsword from its sheath. "I'll only be able to hold them off for so long."

Lucina turned to face him, eyes widened in shock. "W-what?!" she cried, utter disbelief coursing through her. "Y-you can't be serious! I'm not leaving without you!"

"There's no time to argue!" he replied. "Don't worry about me! I'll be following you soon enough!"

"But–!"

"Just go! Don't look back!"

Taking one last look at her companion, Lucina blinked back tears and – after a moment's hesitation – rushed for the portal, leaping into it with faith that it would take her to where she needed to be.

She did not look back.

* * *

Location: West of Ylisstol

Chrom and Lissa took a fairly leisurely pace through the forest, heading in the direction from which Chrom had heard the earlier unnatural sounds. Lissa gazed around in wonder, taking in the sights and sounds from the unfamiliar surroundings of the pre-daylight forest. There wasn't much in the way of sounds – just the calls of nocturnal birds and insects that punctuated the quietness of the night – but even that was an adventure in and of itself for someone who was exploring the world outside for the first time.

The blue-haired man couldn't help the smile that crossed his lips. As active as he was, he'd always enjoyed the quiet peace of the world while it was asleep. He chuckled as Lissa yawned in a decidedly un-ladylike manner, her back popping as she stretched just that little bit too far.

As they reached a clearing, Lissa slowed to a halt, looking up quizzically as if noticing something for the first time. Chrom stopped as well, feeling that _something_ was indeed off. The night was still quiet, as it was earlier, but it was suddenly heavier, and he could now hear his own breathing…

_'… Wait, that's not right…'_ he thought. _'The night's not just quiet… it's gone completely still!'_

Lissa took a step back towards him. "… It sure is dark…" she said uncertainly. "… And quiet. Where did all the birds go?"

Chrom frowned. "Something is _definitely_ wrong here…" he replied as he tensed himself. "Lissa, keep close to me."

Before Chrom could say anything else, his ears once again picked up the sound he'd heard earlier. Lissa's expression had contorted into one of anxiety, and she screamed as the ground suddenly shook with enough force to nearly throw Chrom to the ground had he not braced himself. His sister quickly wrapped her arms around his torso – Chrom doing the same around her shoulders and lowering them both to their knees – as the quake uprooted several trees and sent them falling to the ground with loud crashes.

Chrom loosened his grip on his sister. "… Lissa," he said, his tone calm, firm, and brooking no argument. "Run."

The blonde girl looked up at her brother with a questioning, frightened stare. "Huh?"

His eyes narrowed. "I mean it, go now! Run!" he said, giving her a gentle push to get a head start. He looked back for a moment, gritting his teeth as he wondered just what in the name of god was going on, before taking off after his younger sister.

He was not a moment too soon. Just seconds after he'd vacated the clearing, a fissure split it right down the middle as the earth roared and fragmented with each violent tremor. The side further away from Chrom raised itself upwards, allowing a wall of liquid fire to tear the cracks wide open as it shot out from beneath the ground and into the air, setting trees ablaze and giving birth to an all-consuming conflagration. Balls of flame leapt up from the molten lava, joining the wildfire in illuminating the night sky as they took lazy, graceful arcs in the air before coming down, crashing into the forest and marking their impacts with explosive, earth-shaking force.

The siblings raced through the destruction with reckless abandon, panic and adrenaline fuelling their flight as the forest continued its transformation into hell on earth. Lissa ran as quickly as she could, but was quickly overtaken by the much fitter Chrom, who then took the lead from his sister.

"This way!" the blue-haired man yelled as he suddenly veered off to the left, fire raining down all around him and blocking off their original path of escape with more flames and collapsed trees. Lissa stumbled at the sudden change of direction, but managed to keep on her feet and continue to run as another quake shook the ground.

_'Damn it, what in the name of Naga is going on?!'_ Chrom thought as he leapt down a newly-formed cliff, Lissa following him down just as another fireball slammed into the ground they'd been standing on.

The two continued to run, the forest flames spreading with every passing moment.

* * *

Robin had snapped awake the moment he'd felt the ground beneath him shake.

It hadn't taken much longer for the tectonic movement to rouse Frederick, either, the armored man immediately springing to full alertness and assessing their situation. He'd grown alarmed quite quickly as soon as he realized that Chrom and Lissa were nowhere to be seen in their little campsite. It was almost admirable, Robin had to admit how, even in the midst of a massive earthquake, he was still concerned for those he was tasked with protecting…

He said almost, because the overly suspicious knight had nearly skewered Robin right then and there, the white-haired man evading death by placating the knight for the time being through the use of some quick thinking and logical explanations of their situation. While clearly still unable to fully trust him, Frederick had acquiesced, agreeing that rescuing Chrom and Lissa was top priority given their situation.

_'It's a good thing he did. Not only do we not know where they are, _it's raining fire_!'_ the amnesiac man thought grimly to himself as he looked up over Frederick's shoulder at the distant flames that illuminated the night sky, punctuated by rising smoke columns and fireballs that arced through the air.

"Do earthquakes normally happen in this area?!" he shouted to be heard over the din of the chaos.

The knight shook his head. "No, the southern regions almost never suffer from these sorts of earthquakes!" came the yelled reply. "They're more common up north, but even then they're never of this magnitude! Just hold on tight!"

Robin frowned at that information as Frederick spurred his steed forward, racing directly towards the heart of the forest wildfire. The winds whipped at his snow-white hair, and were it not for Frederick's larger frame and suit of armor Robin was sure his skin might have been ripped off him considering how quickly they were traveling.

_'Chrom, Lissa, be safe! We're coming!'_

* * *

Lucina's leap of faith saw her leaping through the portal right into a raging inferno.

_'No… am I too late?'_ she thought as she dropped the several meters with ease, landing in a low crouch amidst the burning trees. A pair of low, raspy growls emanating from behind Lucina alerted her to the presence of a pair of the same ghoulish undead warriors that had plagued her time. _'What?! Their scourge has already reached even here?!'_

Spinning to face her foe as she drew her sword from its scabbard, Lucina leaped into action, somersaulting over the first ghoul and swinging her weapon in an arc as the Risen passed beneath her. Her blade cut into the monster with no resistance, the corpse collapsing as it began to disintegrate into smoke. Hitting the ground in a three-point landing, the cerulean-haired warrior's head snapped up as she rose and spun in one smooth motion, decapitating the second monster before it could even raise its weapon.

Lucina sheathed her sword and brought her off-hand to her face, checking to make sure her mask was still securely fastened. Nodding to herself, she made to take a step forward before a sudden realization stopped her cold. She quickly looked up at the sky, spotting the portal she'd fallen out from as it stood out from the pre-dawn sky, even with the flames lighting it up.

Her eyes widened in panic as the gateway from the future closed, leaving no trace of the rip in time and space having ever been there. Quickly, she looked around, trying to spot her blue-haired companion amidst the trees and flames. A cold feeling settled into her stomach, spreading out to her limbs as a frightening thought embedded itself in her mind. Was she… was she _alone_ here?

"Leon? Leon, are you there?" she asked as her eyes darted left and right, seeking out the comforting, familiar sight of the other warrior who'd not left her side for as long as she could remember. Marth quickly began running, already fearing for the worst as she continued to look, her efforts growing ever more frantic the more ground she covered. She hadn't seen him enter the portal after her… was he even…?

_'No! D-don't think that way! He's fine! He has to be…! He… he has to be…'_

"… L-Leon…? Leon, p-please… answer me…! Y-you're here, aren't you?!" she called out, her voice growing ever more desperate as the reality of her situation began to sink in. There was no sight of her companion anywhere, solidifying a block of ice in her gut as a dark cloud of fresh fear and anxiety gripped her heart. A sudden tremor threw her off-balance, making her stumble onto her hands and knees.

_'This can't be real… Please… please, don't let this be real…'_

"Please… don't leave me alone…" Lucina whispered, tears beginning to prick at the corners of her eyes as she felt the sudden urge to just collapse and curl up into a ball. "I… I can't do this alone… I can't… I need you…"

Before Lucina could be overtaken by her fear and desperation, a scream punctuated the air, making her snap her head up in response. The outside stimuli seemed to bring the cerulean-haired warrior back to her senses, as she violently shook her head to try and clear the darkness from her mind.

_'No! Stop it…!'_ she told herself as she shakily picked herself up from the ground. _'What are you doing?! The world needs you to be Marth right now!'_

Lucina swallowed heavily, forcing her tears back. _'He… he'd want you to do your best! He's fine, so focus on what you can do now!'_

With a heavy heart filled with many fears and doubts, the cerulean-haired warrior raced into the inferno, and into an unfamiliar new world.

* * *

Lissa doubled over, putting her hands on her knees as she struggled to catch her breath.

Chrom, too, was breathing heavily, but he managed to stay standing upright as he looked at the forest fire burning in the distance. A frown crossed his lips as he wondered what manner of sorcery could have brought this about. He was quickly jolted out of his thoughts by his sister's gasp of surprise.

"Brother! What is that?!" Lissa said, pointing up into the sky.

The blue-haired man glanced at his sister before quickly following her outstretched arm up into the sky. His eyes widened and he took a step back at the sight.

An otherworldly blue sigil tainted with a purple glow floated in the middle of the sky. It was a strange portal of some kind, surrounded on the periphery by a crown of six smaller eyes. It reeked of something dark and sinister as it eerily gazed down at the world – particularly the two siblings standing before it.

Chrom and Lissa could only stare with horrified expressions as dark spots formed on the sigil, growing into vaguely human shapes that dropped a full twenty meters to the ground. They hit the earth headfirst with sickening thuds, making Chrom's stomach lurch for a brief moment. He nearly lost his dinner when they picked themselves up off the ground with an inhuman slowness and fluidity. The two humanoid figures let out raspy growls as they straightened up, revealing dark leather armor and gray, dead-looking skin. They levelled malicious gazes at Chrom with eerie, glowing red eyes as they each brandished a sharp axe.

"… Lissa, you'd better stand back," Chrom said, his even tone serving to mask the panic he was feeling. He drew Falchion from its sheath and held it out before him in a two-handed grip, the feeling of its weight and handle comforting to him and serving to calm his frantic nerves.

The two creatures shuffled forward, black miasma leaking all the while from their mouths as they continued their raspy, inhuman growling. Suddenly, one creature lunged forward, breaking out into an aggressive dash as it made a beeline for Chrom.

It raised its axe over its head and struck with a quick blow, but the blue-haired man was even faster, brandishing Falchion as he sidestepped the monster's attack and struck at its midsection with a horizontal slash that should have bisected it cleanly.

The sound of the monster hitting the ground failed to reach his ears, but a series of cracking sounds made Chrom gasp and turn. The creature had turned its head fully around to look at him even as the rest of its body remained facing in the opposite direction. It swung its axe with impossible strength and speed, black miasma pouring from the wound Chrom had made on its body. The blue-haired man arrested the axe's motion with his blade, grunting with the effort as he struggled – even with two hands gripping Falchion – to push against his opponent's one-handed swing.

Pouring his strength into breaking the deadlock quickly, Chrom shoved the monster's axe away and, with an inarticulate battle cry, delivered a vicious jab with Falchion's pommel right into the monster's face, sending it sprawling to the ground. Capitalizing on the opportunity, the blue-haired man flourished his blade and leaped high into the air, dropping right on top of the humanoid abomination and driving the tip of his blade right into its spine. The monster grew still, instantly dissolving into a purple mist that dissipated in the wind.

It had only taken a few moments, but Chrom found himself strangely out of breath. Before he could even bring his thoughts into order, his sister's scream punctuated the air, making his head snap up as he turned in her direction.

"Lissa!"

His sister had her back up against a tree, holding her staff up in a feeble defensive posture as the second creature shuffled menacingly towards her and raised its axe. Chrom bolted into a sprint, desperately hoping and praying that he could make it even as the rational part of his mind realized that there was no way he'd cross the entire distance in time.

As the monster's axe came down, Lissa looked away and screwed her eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable blow.

"Ugh!"

The expected sound of steel cutting into flesh never came. Instead, the distinctive sound of metal clashing against metal resounded through the air, barely masking a strained grunt of effort.

Chrom's sprint came to a halt as he eyed the scene before him. A new figure – a young man, Chrom figured – had interposed himself between his sister and the monster, keeping the axe at bay with a broadsword balanced over his shoulders and back.

The new entry to the fight grit his teeth, taking strained breaths as he fought against the pressure being exerted by the monster's inhuman strength. However, in spite of his valiant efforts, he slowly began to give way as the monster forced him to one knee, his sword coming ever closer to his back.

The stranger turned to look at Chrom. "Hurry! I can't hold it for long!" he shouted in a strained voice.

His words seemed to snap the larger man out of his stupor. "R-right!" he said as he rushed forward, letting out a war cry as he brandished Falchion in a two-handed grip.

Chrom's approach gained the attention of the monster as it looked up, its axe no longer pressing down with all of the creature's strength and weight behind it. The other man let out a breath as the axe lifted off and quickly took the opportunity to rise into an attack, knocking the monster off-balance and setting it up for a killing blow. He flourished his blade and struck true, his and Chrom's blades tearing through the monster from the front and back.

The world grew silent for a brief moment – the breathing of the three people the only thing that could be heard – before the second monster dissolved into mist just like the first one.

The newcomer took a deep breath, steadying himself as he sheathed his sword once more. Chrom still held Falchion in his own hand as he gazed at the stranger.

"… Quite the entrance," he remarked lightly, before growing serious. "Just… who and what… are you…?"

The stranger turned halfway, surprising Chrom with the sight of an ornate, midnight blue mask that obscured the upper half of the young man's face.

_'This is certainly becoming quite the day for mysterious strangers and events…'_

The sound of a galloping horse alerted the three figures to an approaching horse, and they all turned to see the armored steed of Frederick come into view.

"Milord! Milady! Are you hurt?" he asked urgently as his steed came to a halt near the trio. Robin swung a leg over and dismounted, giving Frederick a pat on the arm as thanks for the ride before walking over to the siblings.

Lissa broke out into a relieved smile. "Frederick! Robin!" she said, greeting the pair. She was clutching onto her staff tightly with shaking hands, but she was definitely putting on a brave face for everyone at the moment. Chrom had to smile at that. If anything, her determination was inspiring, and he found himself filled with a renewed energy to fight on.

Frederick nodded while Robin returned the smile, acknowledging the greeting, before the sounds of low growls alerted the small group. Turning towards the deeper parts of the forest, where the flames were still burning, they could make out more of the humanoid shadows, their eerie red eyes clearly visible in the darkness of the woods as they shuffled forwards.

The white-haired man frowned. "Are such horrific… creatures… commonplace in this land?" he asked, hesitating as he tried to find a word to use to describe the foul horde that now stood before their group.

Chrom shook his head. "They're not from Ylisse, I can assure you that," he replied.

The masked man remained silent, tensing as the creatures shuffled into view. There were more of the same from earlier – zombie-esque soldiers brandishing swords and axes – but there were a few that wore nothing but loincloths and hoods, their elongated arms ending in wicked looking talons that looked like they could rend flesh and armor with equal ease. All in all, there were about a dozen of them, and Chrom was sure that their slow, shambling movements were only temporary. The first two had proved that much.

Frederick sighed in relief. "No one is injured, then? Thank the gods…"

"Thank the masked man who saved me!" Lissa said, grinning as she pointed to the masked man, who kept a respectful distance from them but stayed close enough to be a part of the conversation. "If it wasn't for him, I'd have surely been a goner!"

Robin chuckled. "Well, I'm sure we can all do so once this battle's concluded, right, Chrom?"

"Yeah," the blue-haired man replied, chuckling.

Robin frowned, seeing how the masked man almost flinched every time Chrom spoke. He made a good job of hiding it, but Robin was quite observant – He'd definitely noticed the other's reaction. There was also something else about him that didn't sit quite right with Robin.

_'Well, I can figure out what it is later,'_ he thought. _'First things first.'_

"Eyes open, now," Frederick admonished the pair. "We know nothing about these enemies, so we should take all necessary caution."

"Alright, let's see…" Robin said, taking a few steps forward to stand alongside the masked man. He could feel the stranger's eyes on him – it was quite obvious he was watching, even if he tried to make it less obvious – as he assessed the battlefield before them.

The white-haired man turned back to Chrom. "You don't mind if I take command, do you?" he asked.

Chrom grinned. "Be my guest," he said. "I think I speak for all of us when I say you haven't given us reason to doubt you just yet."

Out of the corner of his eye, Robin noticed the masked man tense again – his grip on his sword's hilt tightening ever so slightly – as Chrom spoke.

Dismissing it from his mind, he nodded. "I'll do my best, then," he replied. "So, here's how we'll do things. When I give the signal, Frederick will break off from us and run interference around the battle's perimeter, hitting the enemy from the flanks and the rear. He'll be a mobile force that will hopefully prevent the enemy from falling on us with everything they've got."

The knight nodded, hefting his shield and lance. "Consider it done."

"Meanwhile, Chrom and I will hit them from the front, along with our mute friend here," Robin continued, gesturing at the masked man, who tensed, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

Noticing the other's discomfort, Robin turned to face the masked man. "You don't mind fighting alongside us, do you? I won't force you to work together with our group, but it would be quite the boon if you could lend us your aid."

The masked man gazed off to the side, clearly hesitant and uncertain, before giving a nearly-imperceptible nod. "I… will have your back, then, as I hope you do mine," came the reply, his voice smooth, soft, and melodious.

Robin smiled lightly, masking his suspicions. "Of course. Thank you," he said gratefully before he turned back to include Chrom as well. "As I was saying, the three of us will meet the enemy head-on."

Lissa bounded up next to the white-haired man. "What about me?"

The amnesiac man hummed thoughtfully. "Let me see…" he murmured as he scanned the battleground, his eyes lighting up as he spotted some small ruins standing in the middle of the clearing. "Say, are those…?"

"Abandoned forts, yes," Frederick said, confirming Robin's thoughts as he rode up next to the white-haired man.

"Great," Robin said. "Then we'll make one of the forts the target of our initial advance. Lissa can take shelter while the three of us fight around it until the enemies' numbers thin. Once the numerical odds are more even, we push forward and catch them between ourselves and Frederick."

Chrom nodded. As was the case in Southtown, Robin's ability to utilize the terrain to make up for his limited resources was most impressive. If the wanton destruction that surrounded the white-haired man had unnerved him any, he certainly wasn't showing any signs of it as he calmly assessed the battle conditions and planned accordingly. He already saw Robin as the tactician the Shepherds – and maybe Ylisse itself – needed.

Shelving his thoughts for later, the blue-haired man brandished Falchion as he took his place a few paces away from Robin. _'There will be time for that later.'_

Robin was pleased to see the masked man step up beside him, on the opposite side from Chrom. If any of his previous apprehension was still present, he was doing a very good job of pretending it had disappeared for the time being. The smaller man drew his sword, turning his body away to prevent either Robin or Chrom from getting a good look at it.

The white-haired man raised an eyebrow at such a curious movement, but simply shrugged and decided to file it away as something he could think about later.

As they stood side-by-side, Robin couldn't help but notice the startling amount of blue on the masked man, and it wasn't just his hair. Virtually his entire outfit was in some shade or another of blue. His long-sleeved tunic and shoulder plates were both lined with gold trim, however, giving him the indication that he might have been of high class. Thigh-high boots covered his legs, although his trousers peeked out in the small portion of his legs that his boots and long tunic failed to cover. A red and gold shield-like brooch fastened a cape over his shoulders, while brown leather belts met at a golden buckle on his left hip, one circling around his waist while the second crossed his chest and looped around over his right shoulder. Fingerless leather gloves, a golden tiara, a jeweled earring on his right ear, and his ornate mask completed his ensemble.

He was… definitely a mysterious figure, but Robin could say that their masked friend definitely was used to some form of high society. It wasn't just his outfit. Everything from his stance to that tilt of the chin spoke to him having had quite the well-to-do upbringing.

There was still that one little thing about the masked man that bothered Robin, however. He couldn't really pinpoint what exactly it was… and while he'd told himself it would be something to consider afterwards, the white-haired man for some reason just couldn't seem to shake off the feeling that it was something obvious.

_'Alright, stop with the random thoughts,'_ he told himself. _'Get your head in the game.'_

Robin drew his sword and tome out, feeling a strange sense of nostalgia wash over him with both of them out. He could feel the masked man's eyes on him, but it wasn't important right now. He was only focused on protecting his allies, and defeating the enemies in front of him.

"Frederick, go now," he said, the knight nodding and spurring his steed into action. "Everyone else, with me."

The group made a beeline to the nearer of the two fortifications, their quick advance made easier by the creatures' slowed advance. Robin frowned at that… they were probably unsure of how to face an organized resistance. It was something to keep in mind for future reference if he ever had to face these monsters again.

The monsters were much closer now, their advance slower than earlier but still constant. There were barely a dozen paces standing between the two groups, and Robin took the time to assess their opponents. He could easily make out the details on individual masks and armor pieces, while puffs of black miasma poured out from their mouths with every growl and raspy, ragged breath.

"Pick a god and pray!" Frederick suddenly yelled as he appeared from behind the creatures, crashing into the formation with full force as he swung his lance at enemies within his reach as he reached the edge of the monsters' scattered group. The knight's actions spurred the enemy into action, a few turning to amble after Frederick, while the rest quickly broke into rabid sprints, aiming directly at the three warriors standing arrayed around a fort.

Robin lowered himself into a combat stance, right side leading. "Get ready. Just stick together and watch each other's backs!" he said, the two warriors by his side only managing nods in reply.

The lead monsters reached the trio of warriors, one of them quickly leaping at Robin with inhuman speed. The white-haired man narrowed his eyes as he sidestepped its lunge, ignoring it for the time being as a second monster right behind the first had raised its axe. Continuing his movement into a spin, he brought his sword up in an arc and quite literally disarmed the monster, its arm dissolving into mist as black miasma poured from its wound. With a flick of his wrist, Robin swung again, his blade cutting into the monster's chest as it moved past him before disintegrating.

Beside him, Chrom leaped into the fray, swinging his sword in two-handed blow that tore through a monster from right shoulder to left hip before twisting around to arrest the momentum of a second monster's sword before it could find its mark. The blue-haired man pushed his opponent's sword backwards before spinning into a vicious slash that bisected the creature, and then he was lost to the general melee.

A raspy growl behind Robin alerted him to the presence of his initial aggressor, the white-haired man refocusing his attention as he turned to face the creature. However, the masked man was suddenly at Robin's side, cape fluttering as his blade flashed through the air. He parried the monster's sword, twisting his body with lithe grace as he danced around a second creature that swiped at him with its wicked-looking talons. It was a mesmerizing sight to behold. It was almost as if the masked man wasn't even fighting. He simply _moved_ into empty spaces, avoiding attacks from whatever direction they came.

Shaking his head, Robin forced his thoughts aside. _'Stop watching and help him, you dolt!' _he thought.

Robin quickly rushed forward and took a running leap, swinging his sword into the path of an axe that had been aimed at the masked man's back. The two blades met with a clang, alerting the masked man to the contact behind him. A look of surprise briefly passed the taciturn man's features before he grit his teeth and somersaulted into the air, cutting the monster down as his body arced over it. With the pressure on his blade lifted, Robin tossed his weapon up into the air as he snapped his tome open, its pages and runes already glowing with mana. In one smooth motion, Robin turned towards the masked man and whipped his right arm out, runes and magic circles already forming around his arm as golden energy crackled within his palm.

"Thunder!" he yelled, his hand firing out a golden bolt of lightning that flew right past the masked man's shoulder, striking one of the monsters that had been sneaking up behind him. If the masked man was alarmed any by the closeness of the spell, he kept it hidden beneath his taciturn expression as he lunged forward, his broadsword flashing over the Robin's shoulder and striking down a monster that had been looking to blindside the white-haired amnesiac.

Robin's sword fell from the air as the masked man withdrew his weapon, taking a few steps back to seemingly assess the white-haired man as he snapped his tome shut and caught the blade in his free hand. Turning to face the masked man, Robin gave him a slightly sheepish grin.

"Sorry about the close call," he said. "I admit I got a little nervous when you rushed forward at me."

The masked man tilted his head ever so slightly. "I did say I would watch your back," he replied, his voice soft but even. "We can call it even."

With a brief lull in combat, Robin took a moment to assess the flow of battle. Chrom stood a few steps away, parrying a blow from one of the monsters before retaliating with a slash that cut it down before it could regain its balance. Another of the creatures had rushed up behind the blue-haired man, making both Robin and the masked man start running in alarm.

Before the creature could bring its axe down, an arrow cut through the air and found its mark, burying itself directly into one of the monsters' glowing eyes. Robin looked up in the direction the arrow had come from, spotting an archer using the elevation of the abandoned fort as a vantage point. The archer waved a hand at him before drawing another arrow and firing once more, dropping another monster with a shot to the throat. Robin nodded in acknowledgement, not knowing who the archer was, but glad nonetheless that he was there to cover them and protect Lissa.

Turning back to the battle, Robin looked around for Frederick. The knight was still causing chaos, tossing creatures left and right with swings and jabs from his lance as he charged through the melee. However, the white-haired amnesiac noted that there was another mounted knight who'd also joined the battle, emulating Frederick's hit-and-run movements. She definitely had some lungs in her, as Robin could hear her yelled curses and insults all the way from where he stood.

_'Hmm… more of Chrom's Shepherds, I'm guessing?'_

Deciding he could get his answers later, Robin searched for the closest enemy, spotting a creature larger than the rest of the mob ambling towards them. Its eyes glowed with hate, black miasma pouring out from its mouth and joints as its eyes bored into the white-haired man's own.

"Looks like that thing's their leader," he murmured. Before either of them could react, the monster let loose a bloodcurdling roar and took off, rushing right at them with wild abandon.

Robin sheathed his sword for the time being and opened his tome once more. "Can you take the lead?" he asked. His masked battle partner looked at him for a brief moment before he nodded, flourishing his blade and charging forward, Robin following in his wake at a slower pace as he gathered mana for his spell.

The monster recklessly swung its axe at the masked man the moment he entered its attack range, but the azure warrior reacted quickly, vaulting into the air and evading the slash. He twisted in midair and lashed out with his own sword, his counterattack only managing a glancing blow before the monster turned and swung its free hand. The return blow smashed into the masked man, knocking him away. He hit a tree back-first with sickening force, letting out a cry of pain before falling to the ground.

Robin's eyes widened as he watched the taciturn warrior struggle to pick himself up off the ground, but his attention was forced back to the creature as it loomed over him, axe raised. Biting back a curse, the amnesiac man dove to the right, the axe biting into the earth where he'd been standing just a few moments ago. He came up in a crouch, hand raised and crackling with power as he fired a bolt of lightning at the creature. His attack struck the creature square in the chest, sending tendrils of electricity racing across its body as it roared in pain.

Enraged, the creature rushed at him with even greater speed than before, swinging its axe wildly. Robin snapped his tome closed and dodged the first blow, unsheathing his sword and bringing it up to parry a second and third swing. The white-haired man held strong, but the force of the third swing still sent him skidding several feet away, his heels digging into the dirt as he ground to a halt before he fell to one knee, winded from the force of impact. Before Robin could recover, a fist slammed into his jaw, sending him sprawling to the dirt as his sword and tome landed just outside of his reach.

Chrom noticed Robin's predicament and made to move to assist the white-haired man, but the monsters before him simply refused to stay down even after several blows. He let out a frustrated growl as he parried the sword-wielder's weapon, the other blade banging against Falchion's edge as Chrom gave ground before its ferocious onslaught. Gritting his teeth, the blue-haired man set his feet and met the creature's sword head-on, their blades coming together with a distinctive clang. As the two weapons ground against each other, an arrow suddenly buried itself deep within the monster's elbow, making it roar in pain.

Seeing his chance, Chrom narrowed his eyes and suddenly gave a forceful shove, throwing the creature off-balance and allowing him to bisect it from right hip to left shoulder. The monster _finally_ dissolved into mist, making him breathe out a sigh of relief before spinning to face the other monster that had been pressuring him, barely managing to bring Falchion up against the axe's handle before it could split him wide open.

"Damn it! Robin, no!" he yelled as the large monster stalked up to the downed and disoriented tactician, almost savouring the kill.

The white-haired man shook his head, Chrom's voice having helped to bring his senses back under his control and shake off the spots dancing in his vision. He quickly made to move, but the creature's feet pinned his right shoulder and left thigh, preventing him from moving or escaping. He cried out in pain as the monster piled its weight onto his limb, making it difficult to breathe as the pain grew in intensity until he almost whited out.

Chrom grew cold, watching as the monster raised its axe over the defenseless tactician.

"ROBIN!" he heard himself and Lissa shout helplessly as they watched their new friend's execution seemingly play out before their eyes.

Before the axe could be brought down, an arrow whistled through the air, cutting into the monster's back. It roared in pain, taking a step back off of Robin, allowing the white-haired man to gasp and take in deep gulps of precious oxygen.

With a cry of anger, the masked man suddenly burst back onto the scene, brandishing his blade and cutting deep into the monster's chest, staggering it and forcing it back several steps. The masked man was quickly at Robin's side, helping the tactician to sit up.

"Ugh… I… I'm alright," he croaked out hoarsely as he fumbled for his weapons, still breathing heavily. "Are… are you?"

The masked man frowned at the man's selflessness. "I am a bit bruised, but I can still fight," he replied. "Stand back, I can –!"

Robin coughed once more as he rose shakily to his feet. "L-like hell are you fine… that hit didn't sound good even from here…" he wheezed out. "We'll… take him together."

A sigh was heard as the masked man placed his free hand against his mask. "… Very well. I shall take point, then, to ease your burden."

"I have your back," Robin said, bringing his labored breathing under control. "… Ready?"

The masked man nodded, turning to face the creature as it roared once more and charged the pair like a rabid hound, oozing black miasma from its wounds all the while.

Robin narrowed his eyes as he snapped his tome open, the pages already flipping as they began to glow with energy. "Wait for him to strike, then dodge to the right," he breathed out. "I'll go left."

The monster roared as it raised its axe and brought it down in a crushing blow, but both Robin and the masked man were more prepared this time. Robin dove left, while the masked man jumped back before circling around to its right.

"Now!" Robin yelled as the monster stalled for a brief moment – seemingly uncertain of which target to follow – before it turned to follow him. "Go low!"

The masked man swept in towards the creature from one side, Robin charging in before leaping directly at the monster as it swung its axe in a wild arc. The tactician slammed his sword against the axe's handle, using the impact to flip himself in midair and land on the creature's undefended flank. The creature swung again in his direction, but Robin had already backpedaled, avoiding serious injury but still unable to avoid the retaliatory strike completely as the axe cut through cloak, shirt, and flesh. Gritting his teeth as pain flashed through his senses, Robin leaped back, sheathing his sword as the masked man rushing in to take his place and parry the creature's follow-up blows. Sword and axe ground together in a shower of sparks as they locked blades, the masked man being quickly forced down onto his knees by the monsters' overwhelming physical strength.

Robin's free hand and tome both crackled with mana as he dug his heels in to arrest his momentum, magic runes and circles forming around him as he channeled the energy into his spell.

"Elthunder!" he called out, a trio of lightning bolts flying out from his raised hand and over the masked man's much smaller form. The bolts smashed right into the monster's chest and head, striking its wounds and drawing even more of the black miasma out. The monster roared, clearly enraged and unhindered by the pain it might have felt, and lashed out with a forceful blow that sent the masked man sprawling onto his back, clearly winded.

Robin sprinted forward as the monster raised its axe again, drawing his sword as he rushed to the masked man's aid. The tactician gripped his weapon and struck with all his strength, catching the monster's axe and shoving it aside before it could strike its intended target. The masked warrior capitalized on the opening, rising up onto his feet and lunging forward. His sword cut through the air in a graceful arc, severing the monster's arm from its body as he shot past.

Robin leaped into the air as the masked man pirouetted to face the monster once more, their two blades flashed through the air as they struck simultaneously and cut jagged tears into the monster's front and back. Streams of black miasma leaked out of the monster's wounds as it let out a single low moan, its eyes losing their hellish red glow. Robin held his breath for a moment, quickly letting out a sigh of relief as it grew still before dissipating into purple mist.

The few remaining monsters suddenly slowed down, the aggression disappearing from their movements completely. Some even looked around quizzically, almost indicating that they were unable to function now that they lacked some form of leadership. Frederick and the other knight quickly fell upon the stragglers, cutting them down without any of the prior difficulty they'd experienced.

With the battle winding down, Robin took a short moment to survey the battlefield. There was nothing that indicated the creatures had ever existed. The only evidence that a battle had ever taken place here were the broken, discarded weapons that were lying about.

Turning to his masked companion, Robin gave what he hoped was a friendly smile. "That was nicely done," he complimented as he sheathed his sword and returned his tome to its pouch.

The masked man nodded as he sheathed his own blade. "I, as well, found your fighting skills to be admirable," he replied coolly, turning to face Chrom, Lissa, and the archer as they approached. The latter quickly rushed up to Robin, raising her staff up as she set to work on Robin's injuries. The white-haired man sighed in relief as he felt his wounds and bruises recovering.

_'Lissa certainly knows her way around the healing arts,'_ he thought as he thanked Lissa, the girl grinning cheekily at him in return.

"It seems all the creatures are vanquished, milord," Frederick said as he and the other knight trotted up to the group, Lissa quickly running up to them to heal any wounds they may have incurred. "I daresay the young man's assistance was most invaluable in helping us deal with these… foul beings."

Robin felt himself grow more than a little annoyed. The other knight carried a few scrapes and bruises here and there which Lissa was already taking care of, but Frederick's armor was _still _spotless. The man looked like he was ready for a parade-in-review, not like he'd just come out from a battle before dawn!

_'I _will_ find out his secret… mark my words…'_

Finished with her work, Lissa looked up at the masked man, her smile taking on a bashful quality as a pink hue dusted over her cheeks. "Um… I never got to thank you… for earlier, I mean," she said shyly. "So… thank you. You… you were very brave. Thank you for helping us!"

"Please, pay it no mind. Your aid was also most welcomed, and for it you have my gratitude," the masked man replied. He almost looked like he was smiling, but Robin couldn't be too sure. As usual, it was quite hard to get a read on him, especially with his mask obscuring most of his face.

"You have ours, as well," Chrom added. "You saved my sister's life, my friend's life, _and_ fought alongside us. My name is Chrom. Might we have yours?"

The masked man hesitated for a moment - Robin quickly noting the look of conflict that crossed what could be seen of his features – but he nodded.

"You… may call me Marth."

Robin frowned. His voice had changed, almost imperceptibly, but it had _definitely_ changed in a way he couldn't place just yet.

Chrom's eyebrow rose in surprise. "Marth? As in the Hero-King of old?"

Marth nodded again, almost as if he didn't trust himself to speak now.

"Well, you certainly fight like a hero, of that I can assure you," Chrom said easily, trying to be friendly. "Where did you learn your way with a sword? Your swordsmanship was most impressive."

Marth swallowed heavily. "… I'm… I'm not here to talk about me," he replied, Robin noticing that his fisted hands had begun shaking almost uncontrollably. "This world teeters at the brink of a horrible calamity. What you saw tonight was merely but a prelude of things yet to come." Marth's voice was wavering now, the tactician managing to pick up on it even as the masked man tried to hide all the cracks in his composure. "… You have been warned…"

With his piece said, Marth turned on his heel and strode purposefully into the darkness, disappearing into the forest and leaving the group of five standing there confused.

"Huh? What's teetering where now? Hey, wait!" Lissa called after Marth, but the masked man was already gone.

The archer shrugged from where he stood. "Not much for conversation, is he?" he said, flicking some of his hair out of his face.

"It appears his skills lie elsewhere," Frederick agreed. "I wager we'll hear his name again… and perhaps cross paths, as well."

The group remained silent for a moment, pondering on the events of the evening and Marth's cryptic parting words.

It was Frederick who once again broke the silence. "… For now, I'm more concerned about the capital," he said. "We should make haste."

Chrom nodded. "True… If the same sort of catastrophe has befallen Ylisstol, then our skills will be sorely needed," he remarked. "We should hurry."

Robin frowned from where he was walking at the group's rear as they resumed their journey to Ylisstol.

_'There's definitely something wrong with Marth… He was hesitant to speak to us, and he could barely hide his trembling,'_ he thought to himself. _'… It's almost as if he was _scared_ of something…'_

As he continued to ponder over the enigma that was the masked warrior, something suddenly clicked in his mind.

_'Ah… that's what was bothering me. I thought I was only imagining things earlier, but… Marth's posture and physique gave me the distinct impression of a girl trying to masquerade as a young man… His voice was also quite feminine in pitch, which might have been part of the reason he was so hesitant to speak, but…'_

He frowned at the sudden revelation. "… I'll definitely need to keep an eye out for you, Marth… there's a lot more to you than meets the eye…"

* * *

Lucina continued at her brisk pace through the woods, not really caring where she was going but knowing she just had to get away from Chrom and his companions. Only when she was sure that she had gone deep enough into the forest that no one would be able to follow her did she slow her pace, coming to a halt and leaning on a large tree that had managed to escape the inferno. Only then did she finally allow herself to drop the facade she'd barely held together as she took off her mask, exposing sapphire eyes that were glistening with tears just begging to be released.

She let out the sob she'd been holding in ever since seeing _him_ again, the mask dropping from her almost-nerveless fingers as she sank to her knees. That had been difficult. That had been one of the most difficult things she had ever done in her life. She should have been happy to see him again, but instead she found herself falling helplessly into a pit of despair.

She'd seen him die, slain by the Fell Dragon before her very eyes… but now, to see him alive and well once more… She'd nearly broken down the moment she saw him and his easy smile. At that moment, she almost didn't care about her mission to save the world. At that moment, she almost didn't even care that she hadn't even been born yet in this time. At that moment, all she wanted to do was just rush into his arms and find sanctuary of a parent's embrace.

The cerulean-haired girl had barely managed to resist the temptation. Her heart screamed at her to do it, while her mind told her that she couldn't jeopardize her mission just to satisfy her own desires. She had felt her self-control slowly breaking down as her rationality and emotions fought for supremacy, the rational arguments becoming weaker and weaker with each passing second as the voice of her heart screamed in her ear for her to just let the truth be known and seek comfort.

Lucina had known that she couldn't allow herself to be selfish. The thought that she'd only be able to see her family from afar yet never feel the comfort of their love once again had pained her, but seeing him with her own two eyes and knowing she couldn't reveal herself had left her utterly devastated, her self-control barely able to hold back the emotions she'd kept locked away for years but which were now begging for release. The dull ache that accompanied her each day had roared to life, making her heart throb with a deep pain that rocked her being with every beat and made her want to just tell him everything every time he'd asked her a question.

As much as it had pained her, she'd ignored her heart's cries and stayed true to her wavering resolve. No matter what she wanted, the mission had to come first before any sort of desire. As soon as she'd felt herself falter, she'd decided that it was going to be far too dangerous for her to stay anywhere near Chrom and his group for the time being, so she'd done the one thing she knew she could do.

Just like she'd done many times in the past, she'd turned and fled.

"Why… why is this so hard…?" Lucina whispered, hugging herself with trembling hands as her tears finally began to fall, staining her pale cheeks as they traced paths down her face. "I can't… I just can't…"

The fears that had been allayed by the rush of battle now came flooding back with a vengeance, engulfing her in a cold, harsh truth that she could no longer deny.

For the first time Lucina could remember since being freed from captivity… she was suddenly alone, with no one to turn to in her moments of weakness. She couldn't turn to Chrom and his Shepherds, that was a certainty. Her friends were still in a time and world she could no longer return to… and her most trusted companion was missing, maybe even…

"No! Don't think that!" she screamed. "He can't… he can't be dead…"

Lucina curled into a ball beneath the tree as a light rain began to fall, the tears now streaming uncontrollably as she lost all sense of composure and control.

"Leon…" she whimpered weakly as she sobbed. "… Please… this isn't… this isn't something I can do alone… I can't be Marth alone…"


	4. Chapter Two - A New Beginning

**Author's Note: Well, this took a month to get out. I want to apologize sincerely for that. I took a week off doing absolutely nothing, as I had a crushing trimester in academics last from January to April. I've been horribly burnt out by it, and I really needed the break to rest and recuperate from the exhaustion. I apologize if there were any of you who felt I was dilly-dallying or thought I'd already killed the story three chapters in, but I _do_ need to rest, as well.  
**

**I also would like to take this chance to address the review left by guest reviewer "Domino" before we continue on. As I can't reply to him via PM, he's a lucky fella because he gets to have the spotlight right here. I will probably be doing similar with other guest reviewers whose reviews carry concerns I feel should be addressed where everyone can see.  
**

**Anyways! Here goes. Domino, mate, I certainly won't stop updating this fic, don't you worry about that. It certainly didn't come off as rude, but I somehow felt that it _did_ come off as rather insensitive. You have to understand that I have a life outside of this website. I have duties and obligations to my academics, to my family, and to my own well-being. This is a hobby of mine that I use to stimulate my mind and encourage my imagination. It's not something that puts food on the table. As for the suggestion of writing shorter chapters, it just doesn't fit my writing style. Every chapter is significant in some way, shape or form, and I try to make it come to life as much as I really can. Thank you very much for the thoughts, and I hope to hear from you again sometime. Cheers!  
**

**With that out of the way, we can move on back to the story proper. We've got a few new changes also being introduced this chapter, as well, so I hope you all enjoy them.**

**As usual, feel free to leave a review or shoot me a PM for questions, discussions, thoughts, and concerns - though I will admit that reviews will always be more appreciated; I get really happy every time that counter ticks up another number. I'll be happy to reply to you at the soonest possible opportunity to address anything my readers might want to say. Flames, as usual, will be used for cooking fondue.**

**With that said, happy reading - and hopefully reviewing! Naga be with you all!**

* * *

_**Chapter 2 – A New Beginning**_

Location: Ylisstol

"So this is Ylisstol, the capital of Ylisse… I've never seen so many people!"

Robin looked around with an awestruck expression, his attention nowhere and everywhere at once as he took his first steps into Ylisstol, the capital city of the Halidom of Ylisse. They'd arrived on the morning of the third day after the battle in the forest, well ahead of their original schedule due to Chrom setting a punishing pace and allowing them to slow down only when the city was in sight and they could confirm that none of the destruction from the forest had befallen the capital. Luckily, they'd managed to avoid any other encounters the rest of the way, though Robin couldn't help but be slightly disappointed that they hadn't seen hide or hair of Marth, either.

The white-haired tactician was exhausted from the previous days' battles and march – not to mention having been wounded and healed more than once within the same amount of time – but it had all disappeared from his body as soon as he'd stepped through the city's large gates, replaced instead by awe and wonder.

It was both similar and completely different from Southtown. The hustle and bustle of everyday life pervaded the streets, people moving to and fro as they went about their business. The tactician watched and listened with interest as he walked, taking in all the sights and sounds of the city and etching it all into his memories. Almost everyone, he noticed, carried at least one thing or another that was probably necessary to their daily lives, from small portfolios to baskets and larger bags. Merchants and vendors called to the passers-by from their stalls, displaying all manner of wares and negotiating deals every which way.

But where Southtown had been exactly what its name and its chief suggested – a humble town of simple means – Ylisstol was a sprawling upscale metropolis enclosed by high walls and divided into many different wards and districts. In the distance, he could see the royal palace of the Exalt standing upon the crest of a hill that occupied the exact centre of the original castle town, almost as if to represent how the Exalt was watching over her subjects.

"Captain Chrom!" the red-haired cavalier called out from the rear of the group, jolting Robin from his thoughts and bringing him back to the real world.

The blue-haired man stopped just before the next intersection and turned, prompting the rest of the group to stop, as well. They were treated to an almost comical sight. The red-headed cavalier Sully, her expression one of annoyance, had one hand out as she attempted to keep the silvery blue-haired archer Virion at arm's length while the other held onto the reins of her steed as she guided it through the crowd. Whether Sully was doing it more for her own sanity or Virion's safety, no one could begin to guess.

Robin took a moment to recall what he'd learned of their two new companions as they'd made their way to Ylisstol.

_'Yeah, I really should try to do a better job at this whole memory thing.'_

Sully was another one of Chrom's Shepherds, clad in armor the same fiery shade as her short, untamed hair. She was loyal to a fault, and, without a doubt, a tomboy who could slug it out with any man worth his salt. Aside from the fact that she was built with the physique of a champion female wrestler if her toned shoulders and upper arms were any indicator, Sully also possessed a certain spirited zealousness that radiated self-confidence and passion for her chosen livelihood, something which was quite easy for Robin to admire in a comrade.

"We'll split off here, make a quick detour, and then meet up at the barracks, that alright?" she said. "Those moaning piles of crap put up a hell of a fight, and I'm pretty sure Ruffles over here wants to sit his arse down in front of a mirror after all of that action."

… Her spirited, aggressive demeanour also ended up influencing her language. Robin swore that even in his forgotten past life he'd probably never met someone with a mouth as coarse and vulgar as Sully's, and he probably never would. Even those brigands from Southtown might probably blush at some of the things that came out of her mouth.

Not that any of this mattered to Virion, apparently, as he hadn't stopped trying to flirt with Sully ever since the conclusion of the pre-dawn battle against those creatures.

The silvery blue-haired archer was a fairly recent addition to the Shepherds, as well, Robin had been more than a little surprised to learn. With fair features, long, impeccably groomed silvery blue hair, a refined, sophisticated air about him, and a frilly long-sleeved shirt and cravat ensemble that only someone of high society could stomach wearing, Virion gave Robin the impression of a typical aristocrat. However, his shoulder armor, arm brace, rugged traveling trousers, vest, and knee-high combat boots helped to balance his fashion sense's dedication to form with some measure of function.

"Ruffles? Sweet Sully, I'll have you know that this is the epitome of high fashion!" Virion replied, flipping some of his long hair back. "Granted, some may not quite understand its charms at first, but, once you do, you'll find no greater paragon of nobility than I!"

… He also had a habit of being quite the braggart, as well as a persistent flirt. The man certainly didn't know how to give up, and every rebuffed advance only spurred him on to redouble his efforts the next time. Robin had a hard time remembering a point in time during their journey when he _hadn't_ been trying to hit on Sully. To be honest, he wasn't quite sure how the hot-tempered cavalier hadn't managed to kill the man yet.

"The hell, you're still going on about that?" she asked, turning on the archer fully and gripping a fistful of his vest and shirt as she drew her hand back. "Well, you can take your 'nobility' and shove it right up your –!"

Chrom cleared his throat, placing a hand on Sully's fist before she could throw a punch. "That will be quite enough, Sully, Virion," he said firmly, stopping the scuffle before it could actually begin. "Sully, try not to threaten and kill your fellow Shepherds. Virion, try not to harass our female members."

Sully deflated, loosening her grip on Virion's shirt and allowing the man to straighten out his appearance. Both wore sheepish looks as they apologized, looking almost like children who were being scolded for poor behaviour.

"Sorry, Captain." "My apologies, sir."

Chrom smiled. "Good," he said. "With that out of the way, you can head on back and get some rest. You've both earned it. Good work, you two."

The two Shepherds both gave Chrom respectful nods, the red-headed cavalier taking the reins of Frederick's steed from the larger knight and promising to take it to the stables. The pair took the path to the group's right, Virion immediately attempting to start up another conversation as they wove their way into the flow of traffic with the two horses following behind them. Robin watched them walk as they disappeared into the crowd, Virion's voice fading even as Sully's curses and threats continued to carry over the din. The tactician couldn't help but crack a wry smile. The red-headed cavalier certainly had some lungs in her.

Robin turned back to Chrom as Sully's voice finally faded in the distance. "It's quite the atmosphere here, huh," he said, gesturing around him with a hand. "I don't think anyone's the wiser about what happened out in the forest last night."

Frederick nodded. "It seems the capital was spared the chaos we encountered, thank the gods," he said. "I see no evidence here of the great quake… it must have just been limited to the forest road, then."

"Well that's a relief!" Lissa said, smiling cheerfully.

The white-haired tactician offered up a small smile of his own. "Now that we know that, might I suggest that we take a slightly less urgent pace, now?" he said, nodding slightly towards Lissa. The blonde girl did a valiant job of hiding it, but it was clear she'd been worn out by the previous day's events and the pace of their early morning march even more than he had. Robin, too, was a bit winded

Chrom chuckled tiredly, at last acknowledging his own physical limits. "I suppose we could slow down a little bit," he said, before jerking his head in the direction of the Exalt's palace. "But we should keep moving. The Exalt needs to know about yesterday's events."

"Hey, you're the boss," Robin replied, shrugging lightly. The group made to set off towards the palace once more, this time at a pace more in line with that of the people walking around them. However, they had only travelled a few blocks more before they came across quite the commotion.

"Look! The Exalt has come to see us!" an older man yelled from down the road, near the next intersection where two of the outer wards' main roads met. The man's words seemed to inspire something in the people, as suddenly everyone was flocking in his direction with a distinct sense of excitement.

Robin felt a sense of curiosity well up within him, and he too made his way towards the edge of the crowd that had formed on one side of the city's main road, his three companions following behind him. As the pathway he was on was heading downhill, it was easy enough for him to see over the heads of those in front of him, giving him a clear view of the source of the excitement. Flanked by lance-wielding female knight, some of whom were sitting astride winged horses – pegasus knights, his mind absently reminded him – was a serene, blonde-haired woman clad in gold-trimmed white and green robes.

"So… that's the Exalt…" he murmured, watching as she waved to the people with a gentle smile. He turned to face his companions. "She's your ruler, isn't she?"

It was Frederick who answered the tactician's inquiry. "That is correct," the knight answered. "Her name is Lady Emmeryn."

Robin looked back at the Exalt as she continued to greet and be greeted by the common folk. "Lady Emmeryn…" he murmured, looking around and noticing that they were a fair distance away from the walls that separated the outer wards from the castle town proper. Frowning, he turned to face his companions again. "Say, Chrom… is it safe for her to walk among commoners like this? Even with an escort, she's still painfully exposed to danger."

Frederick shook his head. "The Exalt is a symbol of peace – Ylisse's most prized quality," he answered again. At Robin's questioning look, the man decided to explain. "Long ago, at the dawn of our age, the Fell Dragon Grima tried to destroy the world. However, disaster was averted by the efforts of the first Exalt, who joined forces with the Divine Dragon Naga in order to combat the beast's scourge. Exalt Emmeryn reminds us all of the hard-won peace that so many fought and died for in those days."

Chrom let out an easy sigh. "With Plegia poking at our borders and looking to instigate a war, the people need her more than ever," he added. "She's a calming presence, when some amongst both the people and the nobility might call for war."

With that said, the blue-haired man gave Robin a pat on the shoulder. "Come on, we should get going," he said as he turned towards the palace once more, Lissa and Frederick following his lead.

The tactician gave one final glance towards the Exalt and her retinue. He watched them for a brief moment more before he turned and jogged after his companions, falling into step with Chrom as they entered the wealthier castle town district.

"We're heading to the palace so you can meet with the Exalt, right?" he asked. When Chrom nodded, Robin continued. "So, is there anything I might need to know – any courtly manners or whatnot – before I do or say something in there that gets me hanged? I _am_ technically only two days old, you know."

Chrom laughed. "Don't you worry about that, friend," he said, grinning at Robin's query. "Exalt Emmeryn is kind and forgiving, both as a ruler and as a person. I wouldn't be surprised if she'd rather sit you down in a room and give you a crash course on court etiquette. Take it from me when I say that getting hanged might be a more favourable outcome than going through one of her lectures, though. I've had to sit through more of them than I'd care to remember."

Frederick shook his head. "Perhaps if milord actually cared to pay attention to and follow the rules more often, he wouldn't have to be lectured by Lady Emmeryn over and over again," Frederick remarked. Lissa giggled to herself at the remark, prompting Chrom to shoot her and the knight a dirty look.

"Shut up, Frederick," the blue-haired man said, turning back just as Robin wiped his own grin from his face. "That said… Emmeryn loves and cares for the people more than any other ruler Ylisse has had."

Robin nodded. "Huh, I see… she truly sounds like quite the benevolent ruler," he said. "The Ylissean people are indeed lucky to have her."

"She's also the best big sister anyone could ask for!" Lissa chirped from beside Robin as the group approached the palace gates.

"Yes I imagine she would be…" Robin mumbled absently as the gates opened at their arrival, allowing them entry. The guards saluted the group as they passed, Chrom waving at them in return as they made their way onto the palace grounds. The white-haired tactician initially didn't pay the exchange any attention, focused as he was on admiring the simple elegance of the palace's architecture and studying its defensibility as a stronghold.

However, Robin's brows furrowed as he realized they'd just waltzed into the royal palace without so much as a question asked.

That was when Lissa's words – and his own – finally registered in his head.

_'Wait, did she just say _big sister_?!'_

Robin suddenly stopped walking. "… Hold on a second. She's your _what_?!" he blurted out, surprise clearly evident by his wide eyes and lack of modulation. "But wouldn't that make you and Chrom…"

Frederick almost smiled. "The prince and princess of the realm, yes," he finished for Robin in a tone that made it sound as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You remember milord's name and not this?"

Lissa giggled at Robin's slack jawed expression as she overtook the utterly gobsmacked tactician and spun around to face him, offering him a cheeky grin.

"Y-you said that you were 'shepherds'!" Robin spluttered, looking back and forth between Chrom and Lissa.

Chrom laughed at Robin's confused outburst. "And so we are… in a manner of speaking," he said, slapping the shell-shocked tactician on the shoulder. "We just have a _lot_ of sheep."

Robin blinked once, twice, as his mouth continued its fairly accurate impression of a fish. When his mind finally began working again, he did the first thing that he could think of doing in the presence of royalty he'd actually been conversing with so casually and irreverently: he dropped to one knee and lowered his head in shame.

"C-Chrom… I mean, Prince Chrom! Sire! Forgive my dreadful manners!"

The blue-haired prince burst out laughing as he took Robin's arm and hoisted the man back up to his feet. "Robin, please raise your head. Just 'Chrom' is fine," he said. "I've never been much for formalities, either."

"Hence all the lectures you've had to sit through!" Lissa quipped.

Chrom mock-scowled at Lissa, but it quickly melted into a good-natured smile, making Robin give a small one as well as he realized that he wasn't about to be sent to the gallows for any transgressions.

"The prince and princess, huh…" he murmured, a sudden thought occurring to him as he gazed at Frederick, who he now realized must be the two siblings' personal bodyguard. "I suppose that explains why Frederick tolerates all the teasing, eh?"

The knight nodded. "Indeed," he affirmed, before taking on a tone of long suffering. "Oh, the sacrifices I make for the good of the realm…"

Chrom looked up, noticing a group of pegasus knights rising up into the air from one of the castle town's main squares. It appeared that Emmeryn and her entourage were finished with their rounds, and were already making their way back to the palace.

"Looks like Emm is returning to the palace," the prince remarked as the formation made to land within the largest of the castle towers. He smiled at Robin. "Would you like to go and meet her?"

Robin could only nod in reply.

* * *

Location: Exalt's Palace

As soon as he'd stepped through the arched entryway just beyond the large oaken main doors, Robin found himself nearly floored by what lay before him. The palace's main atrium was a large, almost-cavernous open space with light filtering in through strategically-placed glass windows. Several white marble columns stood arrayed around the large central space, each one intricately carved with a piece of Ylissean royal history, while banners – each one bearing the same crest that Chrom bore on his exposed right shoulder – decorated either side of the grand hall. Flanking the oaken doors at the other end of the hall were two grand staircases that led up to the second floor walkway which extended out to balconies overlooking the entire chamber.

Robin hadn't had much of an opportunity to take a closer look, as Frederick had ushered him along in Chrom and Lissa's wake before he could get lost in his distraction.

"If milord has his way, there will be plenty of time for sight-seeing, surely," the large knight said, prompting a dry chuckle from the white-haired amnesiac.

As they walked, it became very apparent to Robin just how well-liked Ylisse's royal family was. Chrom and Lissa greeted and were greeted by patrolling guardsmen and staff alike with warmth and familiarity, keeping with Chrom's earlier insistence that he be addressed informally in spite of his station. Frederick, too, exchanged pleasantries with many of the castle guards that their little party came across, giving Robin the impression that the stern knight was also in good standing in spite of – or maybe even because of – his dedication to Chrom and Lissa's safety.

The white-haired tactician noted that the staff still maintained their courtesy and a measure of friendliness with him, but it came as no surprise that they were more than a little curious about the stranger following along after the prince and princess. The questioning looks many of the staff members were sending his way – obviously, he might add, in spite of their attempts to be discrete – made that point quite clear.

Robin really couldn't blame them for being a little guarded. He was a complete mystery, and any unknown figure who also happened to be quite clearly armed would definitely be quite the cause for suspicion.

_'Just ask Frederick the Wary over here…'_

The white-haired amnesiac couldn't help but think the presence of the ever-vigilant knight was probably what allowed the staff to keep to some measure of normalcy – surely, if Frederick had not gutted the newcomer or led him off to the dungeons yet, then there would not be too much cause for concern.

The two royal siblings led the way through the twists and turns of the palace, reaching inner areas that outlined just how big the palace really was. Robin couldn't help but look around as they walked, his mind automatically filing away details about their route even as it also absently brought up names of events and people being depicted by paintings and sculptures that decorated the palace's hallways.

It wasn't long before their small group had reached another set of oaken doors, though Robin noted these doors held a much more ornate appearance than any others and had two armed and armored knights standing guard. In fact, looking around, this entire area seemed a fair bit more extravagant than the rest of the palace that the white-haired man had seen thus far.

Chrom raised a hand as he approached, the guards reacting to the signal by grasping onto the handles on either side of the heavy doors and slowly pulling them open. The prince and princess passed without question, the guards saluting as they passed, but Robin could clearly feel the two tense up as he followed after Frederick.

_'Clearly, people assigned to protect royalty are required to be pretty jumpy,'_ the white-haired man thought dryly as the doors closed behind him, before his pace slowed as he took in his new surroundings.

Robin found himself in a grand hall that stretched on for several meters, light streaming in through the countless windows on both sides of the hall. Emerald banners decorated with an intricate pattern hung from the pillars that lined either side of the large chamber, with a larger banner – bearing what the white-haired man recognized as Ylisse's coat of arms – hanging over the throne located on a raised section of floor at the end of the hall.

Waiting to meet them halfway, however, was the Exalt Emmeryn herself. A stern, steel-haired woman in light, ornate armor stood at attention at the right hand of Ylisse's monarch – a bodyguard of some sort, he'd hazard. Robin briefly wondered why the Exalt had deigned to meet them like this, but he figured that a meeting between family members would allow for this sort of informality as opposed to a traditional royal audience. Still, he decided it would be best to keep back and keep silent for the time being.

"Chrom, Lissa! Welcome home!" the Exalt greeted in a soft, gentle tone, her arms spread in welcome. Lissa wasted no time launching herself into Emmeryn's waiting arms, her own ams encircling her elder sibling's waist. Chrom was calmer about it, but he as well came in close to embrace his older sister.

Now that they were closer, Robin finally had the chance to examine the young woman who ruled over Ylisse. The Exalt Emmeryn couldn't have been older than twenty-four or twenty-five years of age, but her grey-green eyes held a look that spoke to wisdom far beyond her years. She was of a regal bearing, and possessed a serene beauty and tranquil charisma that left Robin utterly awed by her presence. She was definitely Chrom and Lissa's elder sister, possessing long blonde hair not unlike her younger sister's done up in braids and plaits that framed a face that seemingly derived the best of both her younger siblings. However, what caught Robin's eye was the pinkish crest adorning the pale skin of her forehead. It was the same as what Chrom bore on his shoulder, and which was emblazoned on many banners throughout the castle. He resolved to ask someone about it the first chance he got.

The Exalt looked up, seemingly unencumbered by her younger sister who remained latched onto her. "Good day to you, as well, Frederick," she said, the addressed knight snapping to attention even as Emmeryn turned back to Chrom. "How fared you all?"

Chrom smiled. "Everything went quite well," the prince answered. "We shouldn't have any bandit problems for a while."

Emmeryn returned Chrom's smile. "Wonderful," she said, her relief palpable through her words. "And our people?"

"Safe as they can be, Emm," Chrom said, before his expression soured. "However, we still need to watch the borders carefully. The brigands crossed over from Plegia."

The stern woman standing at the Exalt's shoulder frowned at the news. "Forgive me, milord," she said, clearly ashamed. "My pegasus knights should have intercepted them."

Robin immediately decided that the female knight was not one to be trifled with, in spite of her smaller stature. She had harsh, angular features that were made all the more prominent by her stern expression, although a beauty mark just beneath her eye managed to soften the severity of her countenance. Her steel-colored hair was pulled back into a tight bun, leaving fewer locks of hair free to frame sharp rust-red eyes. She was clad in a long-sleeved blue tunic and loose-fitting trousers which partially revealed her dark stockings, while ornate armor the color of polished bronze adorned her shoulders, breast, forearms, hips, and lower legs. While a slight woman, she held herself with the sort of bearing that one could expect from a veteran warrior.

Chrom shook his head at her words. "No, Phila," he said. "You're the wing commander of Ylisse's pegasus knights. Your duty was here, with the Exalt."

Lissa grinned up at Emmeryn. "And besides, we had plenty of help!" she chirped cheerfully.

With that, the Exalt suddenly turned her attention to Robin, who'd been doing his best to remain unnoticed. "Ah, you speak of your new companion here?" she asked lightly, the same gentle smile still gracing her features.

_'Damn it, Lissa…'_

Chrom nodded, placing a hand on Robin's shoulder to guide him forward. "This is Robin," he said in introduction. "We found him passed out in a field, and he has no recollection of how he came to be there… or anything else for that matter."

"Your Grace," the white-haired man said, placing his right fist on his left chest and giving her a respectful half-bow that he somehow knew was acceptable for informal meetings with members of court. In fact, he could see both Lissa and Phila wearing expressions of surprise, and he most certainly could feel Frederick's questioning gaze all but burning a hole in the back of his head.

Emmeryn's perfect eyebrows rose in surprise – but whether it was from Robin's gesture or from learning about his amnesia, he couldn't be sure. Her smile had also dimmed slightly, tinged as it was with a bit of sadness and sympathy for Robin's situation.

"In spite of that, he fought bravely with us against those brigands, and his efforts were quite the contribution to seeing us home," Chrom continued, though Robin could tell he was also surprised slightly by him knowing exactly how to react.

The Exalt blinked once, slowly. "I see… it sounds as though Ylisse owes you a debt of gratitude, Robin," she said warmly, her head inclined in gratitude as her smile brightened once more. "You have my sincerest thanks."

"N-not at all, milady!" Robin stammered out, his cheeks growing as warm as the Exalt's words and smile. He heard Lissa giggle, and even Phila herself had the barest hints of a smile on her face.

Chrom chuckled. "I've known him for only a day and a half, but in that short space of time I've come to respect his martial prowess and his expertise in the field of tactics and strategy," he said, surprising both Phila and Emmeryn – not to mention Robin himself – with such a glowing assessment. "It's because of these attributes that I've decided to make him a Shepherd, and hopefully he'll agree to lend us his services as our resident tactician."

Robin's eyebrows shot up as he stared at Chrom with wide eyes. _'You want me to be your _what_?!'_ he screamed silently at his benefactor. The blue-haired prince only shrugged and offered him an apologetic smile, discretely mouthing _'I'll tell you later'_.

"Forgive me, Your Grace, but I must speak," Frederick suddenly said, drawing the attention of the three royal siblings.

The white-haired amnesiac almost chuckled at the predictability of it all._ 'Ah, right on schedule.'_

"Robin here claims to have lost his memory, but it is only that: a claim," the large knight continued. "We cannot rule out the possibility that he is a brigand himself, or perhaps even a spy for Plegia or some other foreign nation. The very talents that milord speaks so highly of are the very reasons that I have to view his story and circumstances with suspicion."

Chrom scowled, clearly displeased. "Frederick!" he growled out, but a raised hand from Emmeryn silenced him from anything he was about to say.

"Frederick's concerns are valid, Chrom… and yet you allowed him into the castle, regardless," she said, glancing back at the amnesiac, who watched and listened calmly. "Does this man have your trust?"

Chrom nodded without hesitation. "He does, sister. He fought alongside us, and risked his life for our people without any hesitation." Chrom suddenly smiled. "That's good enough for me."

Emmeryn's quiet eyes searched Robin's own, making the white-haired man feel as if that unassuming gaze was peering deep into his soul. He met her gaze steadily, at the very least trying to hide the glimmers of doubt and uncertainty he was feeling. After a few moments that felt as if they were stretched out for an eternity, the Exalt blinked, once, and nodded slightly as if satisfied by what she had seen.

"Well then, Robin…" she said, her lips turning upwards into a reassuring smile. "It seems you've earned Chrom's faith, and as such you shall have mine, as well." She extended a pale, slender hand towards him. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I welcome you to Ylisstol."

Robin looked at the extended hand, then at Emmeryn's smiling face, then back to her unwavering hand. The white-haired man helplessly looked at Chrom and Lissa, who both gave reassuring nods and smiles as if to say that it was alright.

Swallowing nervously, Robin took the Exalt's hand and cupped it in both of his as he bowed his head deeply. "T-thank you, milady," he said. "… You honor me with your faith and trust."

Emmeryn shared a smile with her two siblings before turning to Frederick. "Regardless, Frederick… thank you for your prudence, as always," she said, a twinkle in her eye as she eyed her two younger siblings. "Chrom and Lissa are truly blessed to have so tireless a guardian. I do hope they remember to mention that from time to time…"

"They occasionally express something akin to gratitude, Your Grace," the knight replied, a slight smile crossing his lips as Emmeryn turned a pointed look on her sheepish siblings. However, he quickly turned serious once more and addressed his counterpart standing at Emmeryn's shoulder. "Phila, I assume you've heard about the deathly creatures we've encountered."

Phila nodded gravely. "Yes, milord," she replied. "My knights have reported sightings all across Ylisse."

"We are about to hold council to determine how best to address these threats," Emmeryn added. "It would be a great boon if you were to join us, Chrom."

"Of course, sister."

Lissa moved over to Robin's side. "Well! I think that's our cue, Robin!" she chirped as she hooked an arm through the newly-christened tactician's own and began to pull him along.

"Wait, what? What cue?" the white-haired man said, stumbling over his words and his own feet as Lissa pulled him towards the audience chamber's exit.

Lissa grinned, still tugging him along. "We shouldn't get in the way of the council, silly!" she said. "Besides, someone has to give you the grand tour of the palace!"

Looking back as he continued to be dragged towards the doors, Robin sent a silent plea for help. Much to his chagrin, the Exalt wouldn't be much help to him. Emmeryn's shoulders shook silently as a delicate hand came up to her mouth, clearly trying to stifle her poorly-concealed laughter at what was undoubtedly a pathetic expression on his face. Chrom had a grin on his face, the man also enjoying the scene playing out before him even as Frederick scowled in obvious displeasure.

Robin shot Chrom a betrayed look, the man offering a slight wave as the doors closed. He turned to Lissa as the younger princess released his arm and let out a relieved sigh.

"Oh, thank Naga you were around, Robin," she said. "I hate it when councils are in session!"

The newly-christened tactician frowned in thought. "As a member of royalty, though, shouldn't you be in there?"

Lissa pouted. "Don't even start, Robin. I get enough of that from Frederick," she said, eliciting a chuckle from the white-haired man.

"Alright, alright," he said, still grinning. "So… where are we off to?"

* * *

Several minutes later, Robin found himself still following Lissa as they walked through an open hallway that ran along one side of the palace's main courtyard. They were now on the way to their last stop, the palace garrison wing, which also served as the home base for Chrom's Shepherds. As their newest member, Lissa had told him that there were introductions to be made in order to start integrating him within the troop as quickly as possible.

The white-haired man had to admit that – in spite of her carefree nature – Lissa was actually quite the effective and knowledgeable tour guide. She'd given him an extensive tour of the entire palace that took him to every single nook and cranny from the grand ballroom to the royal dining hall, all the while giving him a wealth of information about each venue. The only areas he hadn't been allowed entry into were the royal apartments where the Exalt and her family lived, as well as a few other places of sensitive nature such as the treasury and the royal vault. Lissa had apologized, saying that there would have been a few problems if she'd done so, but Robin had reassured her that it hadn't bothered him.

Nonetheless, the tactician had taken in everything he _had_ been shown and told, absorbing information like a sponge and committing the palace layout to memory as he was led from area to area and floor to floor.

Still, Robin couldn't help but flush lightly in embarrassment as he recalled when Lissa had giggled at the wide-eyed look of wonder that had settled upon his features upon stepping into the palace library. It was a large, two-story chamber that was lit – much like many of the palace's chambers and halls – by several well-placed windows, giving it a cozy atmosphere in spite of its size.

What had _really _caught Robin's attention, though, was the library's absolutely _massive_ book collection. It was pretty much like unearthing a gold mine, as far as he was concerned. Both levels of the chamber were lined with rows upon rows of high shelves packed to the brim with books of all kinds and about all manner of topics, while several reading areas with well-furnished tables, couches, and chairs were interspersed amongst the various sections of literature, providing visitors a comfortable place to sit down and read. It was almost like heaven on earth, and Robin had pretty much decided right then and there what his favourite place in the palace would be. He was sure he could spend entire weeks reading and still not run out of new books to peruse.

"Here we are! The Shepherds' garrison!" Lissa suddenly announced, jolting Robin out of his thoughts. Looking around, he found himself in the outer bailey of what he quickly recognized as one of the palace's forts. A modest two-story garrison stood before him as the fort's inner bailey while a stable occupied its own side of the enclosure, leaving a generous amount of space for what the tactician assumed was an open training area.

Lissa nudged Robin forward. "Come on, let me show you around so you can feel a little bit more at home!" she said cheerily. The pair trotted forward, receiving a yelled greeting and an uncharacteristically girlish wave from Sully, who was tending to her steed in the stable. Lissa waved back while Robin simply raised a hand in greeting before they continued on.

Walking through the main door, Robin found himself mildly surprised. It lacked the extravagance of the rest of the royal palace, but it was cozy and well-furnished while still maintaining the functionality required of any military building. The entrance opened up into a modest foyer, with a staircase leading up to the living quarters that took up the second floor. A door at the back of the first floor opened up into a hallway that led into the kitchen and mess hall, the garrison's armory and supply room, and a common room that Robin surmised probably served as an off-duty gathering place.

It was there that Robin found Virion and three people doing something or other to pass the time.

Virion sat alone at a low table, a tea set made of fine porcelain laid out before him as he lazed casually with one leg crossed over the other. He was still dressed as he had been earlier – complete with ruffles and all – but whether it was the exact same outfit or merely an identical set of his absurdly fine wear, Robin couldn't tell.

The self-proclaimed 'archest of archers' offered up a nod and a smile in greeting as Robin and Lissa entered, raising his teacup to them in a salute before bringing it to his lips.

"Hi, everyone! We're back!" Lissa called out cheerfully.

One of the others in the room, a blonde girl who'd been burying her nose in a thick, heavy tome, suddenly perked up at the sound of Lissa's voice. Her hair was styled into several curled tails that were held in place by two large ribbons, while she was dressed in frilly, high-quality riding clothes that complemented her fair complexion and lent her an impression of upper-class femininity. However, like the flirtatious archer, the blonde girl also managed to maintain some form of practicality, if her brown leather riding boots and hip armor were anything to go by.

The girl turned to look, and her expression instantly brightened as she caught sight of Lissa. Before Robin could realize what had happened, she'd bolted out of her chair and rushed at them, bodily barging Robin out of the way as she barrelled into Lissa and enfolded her in a tight hug.

"Lissa, my treasure!" the smiling girl said in a refined, well-modulated voice that all but screamed at Robin she was of the nobility. "Are you alright? I've been on pins and needles this whole time! Ooh… when your supposed arrival time came and went without any word from you, I was completely overcome with worry!"

"Oh, hey, Marribelle!" Lissa said, returning the other girl's affection.

The blonde girl – Maribelle – released Lissa and pouted at the princess, glaring in mock anger. "'Oh, hey' yourself!" she replied. "I've sprouted fourteen grey hairs fretting over you!" She immediately sifted delicate gloved fingers through strands of blonde hair, pulling out a few follicles that had indeed begun to go grey at the roots.

"Aw, you worry too much! I'm fine; I can handle a battle or two!" Lissa replied, offering up a smile and doing as good a job as any of hiding her exhaustion from Maribelle. However, she paused, and the smile quickly turned into a grimace. "… Although I could have done without the bugs and the bear barbecue…"

Robin turned as a muscular man stood from his seat and approached the three. His wild, unkempt blonde hair was pulled back by a headband, and provided a strange contrast to his suntanned skin that was likely the result of his choice of clothing – or lack thereof. He wore no shirt, leaving the chiselled muscles of his upper body bare save for the steel brace that protected his neck and lower abdomen and the leather arm guard that covered his left arm from hand to shoulder.

"Hey there, squirt!" he called out to Lissa, making Maribelle instantly wrinkle her nose in disgust. "Where's Chrom? I bet he had a rough time without good ol' Teach and his trusty axe there to bail him out!"

Maribelle simply rolled her eyes at the man's ego, while Lissa on the other hand snickered in a decidedly devious manner.

"Oh, so you're 'Teach' now, Vaike?" she asked, giggling at the opportunity presented for some ribbing. "And here I thought people were just born lacking wits. It can be taught?"

Vaike puffed his chest out with pride. "Ha! Never doubt the Vaike!" he said, before something occurred to him and he spluttered. "Hey… wait, was that an insult?!"

Before Lissa could continue to tease Vaike, the third person – a slight, brunette woman – stepped forward from where she'd been perusing a bookshelf at the back. Her general posture, and the way she held her hands together in front of her told Robin she was a shy and timid sort who lacked the experience that the others seemed to have… but her bronze-colored light armor, short purple dress, and thigh-high riding boots were still characteristic of pegasus knights based on what he'd seen earlier from Emmeryn's honor guard and Wing Commander Phila, so Robin would withhold his judgement until he saw her in action.

"B-beg pardon, but when might we see the captain…?" she asked shakily, her voice quivering with her nervousness.

Again, Maribelle rolled her eyes, and Robin slowly began to find himself disliking the noble girl's haughty demeanor.

"Poor Sumia," the girl said, her voice laced with a mix of exasperation, a surprising amount of sympathy… and just that slight hint of mischief. "She's simply been beside herself with concern… Her eyes were scanning the horizon all day during training as she held her breath and waited for her beloved to reappear… I fear she might have actually earned fewer bruises fighting blindfolded."

The timid pegasus knight's cheeks dusted dark pink at Maribelle's statement.

"Aw, Sumia, that's so sweet of you to worry about Chrom!" Lissa cooed, smiling deviously.

Sumia's blush darkened to a shade of red. "W-worry? Well, I… h-he's our captain, so… um… a-and he's also the prince! O-of course I'd worry!" she stammered out, clearly flustered by the two girls' insinuations.

_'Huh… interesting, looks like Chrom has a not-so-secret admirer. I should probably take note of this. Something good might come out of it.'_

Robin attempted to stifle his laughter as Lissa and Maribelle giggled, obviously pleased by how easily the pegasus knight had worked herself into a blushing, stammering wreck.

"So, who's the stranger?" Vaike suddenly asked, noticing Robin for the first time. "A new guy?"

"Oh!" Lissa exclaimed, quickly shooting Robin an apologetic look with her wide eyes as the rest of the group suddenly turned their attention to the unfamiliar newcomer.

"First off, no one's stranger than you, Vaike," she said, giving the man a cheeky grin before pulling Robin forward. "But allow me to introduce Robin! He's just joined the Shepherds, and Chrom's decided to make him our new tactician. You should see all the tricks he has up his sleeve!"

Vaike barked out a laugh. "Hah! Oh yeah? But can he do _this_?" he said, pounding a fist against his chest and producing a hearty belch.

From his table, Virion scoffed at the display. "How repulsive," he muttered, taking another sip from his tea.

"That's Vaike for you…" Lissa snickered, trying to hide her laughter lest she be on the receiving end of Maribelle's ire, the other blonde girl already glaring at the shirtless man.

Robin, on the other hand, blinked for a moment before barking out a quick laugh. _'Oh, man, this guy is a _riot_!'_

"I'm sure I have much to learn from you in the belching arts, O great and illustrious Teach," he said dryly, still chuckling as he took an exaggerated bow. "In any case, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintances."

"Ugh, Vaike, that was abhorrent! Must you baseborn oafs pollute even the air with your buffoonery?!" Maribelle shouted before turning her attention to the newly-introduced tactician. "And you! Robin! Do not encourage his deplorable behaviour by laughing at such a vulgar display! With such a station as yours needing someone well-educated, I'd have hoped you would be cut from finer cloth than this!"

Robin frowned as Maribelle let out a quick 'hmph', turning up her nose and storming off without another word. _'… Yeah, nice to meet you, too…'_ he thought, wondering how things had gone south that quickly within just a few minutes of meeting his new companions.

Sumia placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don't take her words to heart, Robin," she said soothingly as she led him over to a table. "Maribelle… warms to people slowly."

"Or burns too quickly," Lissa quipped jokingly, giggling to herself as she sat down. "But yeah… just give her some time. She'll come around."

Robin nodded. "I see… I certainly hope so…" he murmured.

"Heh. Here the Vaike thought she was just a prissy little snob," Vaike added in a low tone, making Robin smile lightly.

_'At least he had the tact to not let anyone else hear that,'_ he thought to himself as the rest began to chat amicably.

Joining the conversation, Robin quickly found himself warming up to Sumia, Vaike, and Virion as they spoke at length about a great many topics. He and Lissa took turns explaining yesterday's events to the rest: Robin's situation, the bandit attack at Southtown, and the midnight forest fire and encounter with the strange monsters. Virion stepped in every now and then to add his own facts and points which – contrary to Robin's expectations – were actually quite accurate and detailed. Robin would have been surprised by how observant Virion actually was, but the man _was_ an archer – the 'archest of archers', as he was prone to remind everyone within earshot. Observation skills and a keen eye were part of the skill set one would normally expect from someone of his profession.

On the other hand, Sumia explained as much as she could about the Shepherds, although Lissa took over for her when the pegasus knight stood, saying she just needed to get something from the kitchen. Robin listened as the two filled him in and answered his questions on the Shepherds' role in Ylisse's military, their numbers composition, their skills, and everything else in between that he might need to know about who he would be working with. Apparently, he hadn't met all the Shepherds, as quite a few of them were part-time members who usually worked in other roles and jobs throughout the royal palace and only joined up when the group was set to undertake a mission.

_'They're… definitely not bad people,'_ Robin thought, although he wished he'd gotten off to a better start with Maribelle. Speaking of the girl, he noticed that she'd stepped back into the room, though she only picked up the book she'd left on the table before offering a quick farewell to Lissa. She gave Robin a critical eye, but then turned away as she left once more. He sighed, and Lissa gave him a reassuring pat.

Before Robin could do or say anything else, he suddenly tensed up, feeling as if he was being watched from somewhere. He discretely took a look around the room, trying to find anything out of the ordinary. The tactician did a double-take when he thought he saw a large man in heavy armor waving at him from another table, but his second look showed an empty table, making him wonder whether he'd just been imagining things.

He shook his head. _'Either this building is haunted, or I'm hallucinating,'_ he thought to himself, wondering whether amnesia really _was_ his only mental problem.

However, Robin was distracted from his thoughts when a plate of freshly-made sandwiches was placed in front of him.

_'_… _Or maybe I'm just hungry,'_ the tactician thought as his mouth watered at the sight. He looked up at his benefactor, finding a smiling Sumia looking down at him.

"You and Lissa look tired," she replied, nodding towards where Lissa had begun to attack her own plate. "… I imagine things can't have been easy for you yesterday, either."

Robin was about to say something, but he was cut off by his stomach grumbling in protest as it chose that moment to remind him that his last meal was the leftover bear meat he'd had the previous evening – they hadn't had much chance to catch anything else in their rush to return to the capital.

Sumia giggled as she offered the white-haired man a knowing smile. "See? Go on, now, tuck in."

Blushing lightly in embarrassment, Robin settled for a simple "Thank you" before digging in gratefully.

Virion chuckled. "At least someone here had a decent upbringing," he said, glancing at Vaike meaningfully out of the corner of his eye. Lissa and Sumia snickered, letting the archer know he'd been overheard.

His _actual_ target, however, seemed to have missed it entirely. "What was that, Ruffles?" Vaike asked, making Lissa laugh even harder even as Virion shot the other man a displeased look.

"Excuse me? 'Ruffles'? My name is Virion, you uneducated buffoon," he replied, frowning at the shirtless fighter over the rim of his teacup. "Surely even a dimwit like you could remember _that_ much."

Vaike simply rolled his eyes, something which the archer did _not_ miss, if his withering glare was anything to go by, although he dropped the glare when Sully walked in, still in her riding clothes but no longer wearing her red armor plates. Predictably, the fiery cavalier took a seat as far away from the nobleman as physically possible, setting down a tankard of ale that was almost overflowing with foam.

"Vaike? He's pretty dim, alright," the boisterous cavalier said, letting out a hearty laugh as she slapped Robin over the back, knocking the breath out of him for a brief moment.

_'Gods _damn _it, Sully, you hit hard!' _Robin thought as he gasped for breath.

Vaike scoffed. "Hah! If ol' Teach had been there, we'd have sent 'em all packing in no time!"

There was a brief moment of silence, before Sully roared with laughter.

"Yeah, right!" she said. "If Robin hadn't been around to help us out, we might have all been roasted by now!"

"Indeed," Virion hummed appreciatively before taking another sip of tea.

Lissa nodded enthusiastically. "And Southtown might have been in a lot more trouble!" she chimed in, shooting Robin a big smile.

"M-me?" Robin said, blushing lightly. "I didn't really do much except nearly get killed."

Virion shook his head. "Nonsense, my friend, you were splendid," he said. "I'm sure I speak for all when I say that, as much as we appreciate your modesty, you should take the credit you deserve. Your tactical advice was sound. I fear we would not have made it out as well as we did were you not there to aid us."

The group grew silent upon hearing the front door open and close, and they turned to look as a visibly worn-out Chrom walked in from the main hallway. Both Lissa and Sumia were instantly on their feet, with Robin getting up a moment later. Vaike, on the other hand, simply swung around to lean on the back of his chair so he could tilt his head back and look at Chrom.

"Ah! C-Captain! You've returned!" Sumia exclaimed, unable to mask her excitement and relief as she rushed forward. "I was – I mean, we were so –!"

However, in her haste, Sumia's boot caught on something sticking out from the floor, causing her to trip and face-plant with a thud that Robin found distinctively cringe-worthy. She picked herself up quickly enough, a blush quickly forming on her face as she dusted herself off.

"Sumia! Are you alright?" Chrom asked in alarm as he rushed over to check on her.

The embarrassed pegasus knight nodded, fidgeting with the hem of her dress as she looked down.

"Is it those boots of yours again?" Chrom continued, gently tilting Sumia's face up to look at him as he leaned this way and that to make sure she really was uninjured.

Robin forced a smile down. _'Ah… so the care and concern is mutual… _very_ interesting, indeed,'_ he thought, biting down a chuckle at the knowing smiles – or not-so-subtle kissing motions, in Vaike's case – some of the Shepherds were shooting at the two.

Sumia's face reddened further at the intimate gesture. "N-no! I-I mean, yes! I mean…" the flustered knight stammered out, before she gave up trying to save face and simply sighed.

It took Chrom a moment before he suddenly remembered just where he was. Cheeks heating up, the prince let go of Sumia and took a step back, looking away awkwardly as he cleared his throat.

"W-well… ah, at least you're unhurt," he murmured bashfully, eliciting some snickers from Lissa and Sully which only served to further embarrass the pair further.

Sumia nodded in mortified silence, her face completely red with embarrassment as she refused to meet Chrom's eyes.

The pair simply stood around in awkward silence for a few moments, before Virion coughed into his fist. "Any news, Captain?" he asked drolly before taking another sip of his tea.

The question seemed to shake Chrom out of his daze, the prince quickly recomposing himself. "Ah, yes… thank you, Virion," he said, the other man merely raising his cup in acknowledgement.

Chrom straightened up to his full height. "All right, everyone, listen up," he said, all trace of embarrassment wiped from his face for the time being. "At first light tomorrow, we'll be marching for Regna Ferox to petition their Khan for military aid."

Robin tilted his head questioningly. "Regna Ferox?" he asked, his mind once again drawing blanks.

"Regna Ferox is a unified kingdom to the north of Ylisse," Sumia replied, having calmed down enough to speak normally. "It's inhabited by barbarian tribes, or so they say, but… well, don't ever believe the stories until you see it for yourself, or so the saying goes. Regardless of the stories, Ylisse _does_ have an alliance with them."

Robin had instantly taken a liking to Sumia. While timid and shy, she was also very kind and thoughtful, and had not hesitated to accept his story and situation. She'd taken it upon herself to explain the history and significance of any topics they'd been talking about, something which he was very grateful for as it allowed him to at least keep up with the conversations.

It was… refreshing, the tactician had to admit. After being harassed by the ever-suspicious Frederick – _'Vigilant, my arse,'_ he thought – for the entirety of yesterday and most of the morning, he'd been worried that more of the same behaviour awaited him with the rest of the Shepherds. However, aside from a few incredibly rude questions that Vaike had asked him – surprise, surprise – they'd all easily accepted him and his story, Sully even coming to his aid by rapping her knuckles rather hard on the top of Vaike's head. Apparently, Lissa's good word meant a lot in the unit, and hopefully would mean the same throughout the rest of the palace and the army, if it came to that.

"Warriors are _definitely_ what they are, and we'll need to add their strength to ours in order to quell this new menace," Chrom added. "Given the nature of what we're asking, the Exalt would normally have to go and make the request in person. However, given recent events and the current situation with Plegia… well, the people might worry should my sister suddenly leave the capital for any period of time. Thus, the council has – by recommendation of the Exalt herself – seen fit to pass the task to us."

Chrom turned to face the entirety of the Shepherds present. "Now, this mission is strictly voluntary, and no one will be forced to go. So, if for any–!"

Lissa jumped up and instantly raised a hand. "I volunteer!" Lissa called out, smiling cheekily at her older brother.

"Me too!" Vaike called out. "You'll be needin' ol' Teach along for such a delicate mission!"

"Just try and leave me behind," Sully said, grinning as she cracked her knuckles.

Virion set down his teacup and saucer. "I suppose it would be wise if I were to accompany you," he said. "The gods forbid us not having least _some_ modicum of refinement and nobility."

"I'll go as well," a voice said from behind Robin, making the tactician jump. He turned around, and for a moment he thought he saw the same heavily-armored man from earlier standing near the back. "… What? I've been here the whole time!"

Robin shook his head. _'Now I'm _really _imagining things…'_ he thought, before a horrifying thought crossed his mind. _'Wait, wait a minute… Am I one of those people who have imaginary friends?'_

The tactician suddenly realized that Chrom had turned his attention to him, and was now looking at him with an expectant expression on his face.

Robin sighed lightly. "Well, I don't think I'd be a very good tactician if I let you run off without me, will I?" he said, smiling wryly.

Chrom's expression lit up as he broke into a boyish grin. "So you accept?" he asked, his expression more than a little hopeful.

"As long as you explain everything later, Chrom," Robin replied, mirroring the prince's smile. "Besides, I don't think you gave me a choice. You asked me in front of the Exalt herself."

The prince of Ylisse chuckled as he clasped Robin's shoulder. "Well, I needed _some_ insurance."

"I… I, um…" Sumia mumbled, wringing her hands nervously.

Chrom turned to face the pegasus knight. "Yes, Sumia?" he prompted gently.

"I… I want to come, too," she said. "It's just that… I mean, I'm not sure if I'm… if I'm quite ready for a proper mission just yet… I'd probably just get in the way."

Chrom hummed in thought for a moment. "Well, you could stay behind the main group and, if a battle is met, just watch and learn from there?" he suggested. "It's your choice, Sumia. However, there will come a time when you'll need to be ready to fight, and there are some lessons you can only learn on the battlefield."

"W-well, if you think it wise, Captain…" the brunette replied, clutching her hands together tightly.

Chrom put a hand on Sumia's shoulder. "Just stay by me and you'll be fine," he said, smiling reassuringly.

Sumia's pinks took on a rosy hue as her expression brightened. "Oh! Y-yes, of course!" she said happily. "I mean… yes, Captain! I'll do that!"

Robin fought the urge to groan. In a way, he could suddenly understand why Maribelle reacted the way she did when Sumia had asked about Chrom.

_'_… _I wonder if they even realize how much they look and sound like a pair of love-sick teenagers…'_

* * *

Later that evening, Robin sat alone in the common room, his tome open and on the table in front of him.

He'd excused himself from dinner earlier; much as everyone had tried their best to make him feel welcome, he wanted to take some time to himself in order to learn what he could about himself.

As he had flipped through his tome, Robin found that it contained dozens of pages of spells, each one with its own intricately drawn runes and magic symbols. While he couldn't quite remember what language the runes used to bind the spell were written in, comprehension for it came quickly and easily to him. It seemed to him that he'd been a fairly accomplished mage in the past, if the sheer number of spells and the fact that the tome also included some handwritten notes on magecraft that matched his own penmanship were any indication.

However, the white-haired man quickly noticed that there was a section of his tome that was separate from the rest, with its own sub-binder and lock holding the pages closed as if it was its own tome. As he opened the lock on the small subsection and flipped through its pages, he quickly noticed that everything in it was obscured by an inky, swirling black fog, distorting the details of any and all spells and runes within it and preventing him from discerning what the contents of this tome were.

_'But why, though…?'_ he thought, laying his right hand on the page and running his fingers over the warped, unrecognizable runes and symbols even as the mist coiled around his fingertips and filled him with a cold sense of dread.

However, as if responding to his touch, the runes suddenly began to pulse with an eerie purple light. A flare of pain shot through the back of the tactician's hand, making him recoil as a burning sensation crawled along his skin, leaving marks that slowly manifested into the same six-eyed symbol he'd seen yesterday. A block of ice solidified in his gut as it stared at him, pulsing with the same sinister energy coming from the tome.

With every pulse, he felt something tugging at his consciousness. Something was whispering to him… calling to him… the voice was growing louder and louder with every passing moment as his vision swam in and out of focus.

Darkness began to nibble at the corners of his vision, and, before he could truly comprehend what was happening, his world went black.

* * *

_Death… he was surrounded by the feeling of death._

_Robin opened his eyes slowly, but they quickly widened in shock as he was greeted by what could only have been a vision of Hell._

_He was no longer in the Shepherds' garrison in Ylisstol. No… he was somewhere far, far different._

_Looking around, he found that he was in a strange, circular chamber… almost like an arena, he figured, judging by its size and construction, but he couldn't really tell as his vision was obstructed by a strange mist. Rubble of different shapes and sizes littered the area while craters and jagged cracks marked the landscape, letting Robin know that this had been the scene of something very destructive. The fact that flames still licked at certain areas, it must have been fairly recent, as well._

_The tactician took a step forward, his foot coming into contact with something soft. He looked down and visibly recoiled when he discovered that he'd nearly stepped on a corpse. The person on the ground was a girl that couldn't have been any older than eighteen, wearing a purple tunic with golden embroidery and the same six-eyed symbol on the back of his hand emblazoned on the garment's front…_

_She stared up at him with empty eyes, bleeding from several wounds on her chest, two of which still had blades stuck in them._

_Genuinely disturbed, Robin took a step back, swallowing heavily as he tried to keep his dinner from coming back up the way it came. He averted his gaze from the sight – though he knew the image would be seared into his memory for a long while – and trudged forward warily._

_As soon as Robin stepped into what he approximated to be center of the arena, a massive gust of wind filled the chamber, forcing the tactician to throw an arm up to protect his face. The force of the gale grew in intensity as it buffeted the white-haired man, his coat flapping wildly with the rushing winds. He only managed to stay on his feet for a few moments before he was thrown to the ground and sent sliding back until a fallen pillar arrested his motion. Unable to fight the winds, Robin simply threw both arms up and tucked his head down as he waited for the gusts to weaken._

_After a few tense seconds, the winds finally let up, allowing Robin a brief moment to collect himself. As the tactician stood up on shaky legs, he found that the wind had cleared the mist, allowing him an unobstructed view of the area for the first time._

_The arena was covered in rubble, yes. However, Robin quickly turned pale as he realized that not all of the shapes that he'd seen through the fog were pieces of rubble._

_Robin's stomach lurched violently as he began to recognize that he was actually surrounded by bodies. The girl he'd nearly stepped on was not alone in her fate, he realized with growing horror. Every way he turned revealed dozens of bodies that lay in drying pools of blood, the evidence of their deaths still in full display. Much like the girl he'd nearly stepped on earlier, they were all clad in purple garments which were adorned with some variation of the six-eyed symbol that still pulsed on the back of his hand._

_He looked around with wide, panicked eyes, wishing that this was all just a horrible nightmare he could wake up from even as he searched for a way out._

_That was when he laid eyes on a figure that stood on top of a collapsed pillar. The person wore a familiar purple coat with three "eyes" decorating either sleeve, and in his shock it took him a moment to realize that the reason the coat was familiar was because it was the exact same coat as what he himself wore!_

"_W-wha… who are you…?" he whispered._

_His assailant said nothing, merely drawing a sword from a sheath strapped to the back of their waist and falling into a stance._

_Before Robin could realize what was happening, his assailant was already upon him, delivering a hard kick to his abdomen and sending him flying backwards into a large slab of stone. The hood had been thrown back by the speed of their charge, revealing the other figure to be a woman. She had long, lustrous white hair that was tied back into two tails that fell over her shoulders, leaving parted bangs that framed a delicate, pretty face and cold, hazel eyes._

_He had only a single moment to recognize his own self in her features before she lunged at him, blade aiming directly for his heart…_

* * *

Robin screamed in sheer terror as he sat up, cold sweat dripping down his face. He looked around wildly, panic coursing through his body as he tried to piece together his location and search for an enemy he could not see.

"Robin! What's wrong? Get a hold of yourself!" a voice said, snapping the white-haired man back to reality as a hand shook him hard.

The tactician turned, shakily following the hand on his shoulder up until his eyes settled on the familiar visage of the Ylissean prince. The panic slowly began to dissipate, leaving a relieved sense of recognition.

"C-Chrom…" Robin croaked out.

"Don't worry, it's me," came Chrom's firm and gentle voice as he gave the visibly shaken tactician a reassuring smile. "You're in the Shepherds' garrison. You're safe. Nothing and no one's going to harm you."

Robin nodded, allowing the prince to help him up from the floor and into a seat. He swayed unsteadily even after being lowered into his seat, but Chrom kept a strong grip with both hands as he held onto Robin's left shoulder and right arm to keep him upright.

Looking at his tome, the tactician found that it was no longer glowing or pulsing. In fact, the separate section of the tome had been snapped shut and locked once more. Bringing his right hand up, the mark had once again disappeared from his skin, making him wonder whether he'd been hallucinating or not, but…

_'No, that had definitely been real…'_ he thought, taking deep breaths as he struggled with his erratic thoughts and heartbeat.

Robin gave Chrom a meaningful glance. "I-I'm fine," he said, although whether he was trying to convince Chrom or himself he wasn't quite sure.

The prince's expression was still worried, but he chose to say nothing as he waited for the white-haired man to recompose himself. When he was certain Robin was steady enough to sit up on his own, Chrom released his grip on the tactician, pulling back slowly in case the other man collapsed again.

Robin sighed. "Sorry you had to see that," he said, using his sleeve to wipe some of the perspiration from his brow and forehead. "How long was I out?"

Chrom frowned. I'm more curious about what _that_ was," the prince replied. "I doubt you were out for very long. I was just on my way to see you when I heard a crash from the common room. I rushed in here, and there you were lying unconscious on the ground. The next thing I knew, you woke up screaming."

The tactician frowned. "Did you see anything out of the ordinary? Was my tome glowing or…?"

"I can't say I did…" Chrom replied thoughtfully. "Well, you were on the ground and a chair was knocked over, but there wasn't really anything I'd classify as out of the ordinary. Why do you ask?"

Robin frowned. _'It had stopped glowing? Was it some sort of reaction, then, that caused it to pulse and show me that nightmare? No matter how I look at it… I just can't help but feel there's something in that tome that somebody doesn't want me to find out about. So… was the vision a warning, or… something else?'_

"Robin? Is something the matter?" Chrom asked, seeing how Robin was so deep in thought.

The other man shook his head. "No, it's nothing, Chrom. Don't worry about it," he replied, although he could tell Chrom remained unconvinced. He paused for a moment as a thought occurred to him. "Wait, you said you were on your way to see me. Did you need me for something?"

Chrom suddenly seemed to remember something. "Ah, right. Well, I _did_ say I'd explain everything, so here I am," Chrom said.

"Alright, I'm all ears," Robin replied as Chrom took a seat across from him.

Chrom let out a breath. "Right… well, I just want you to be able to understand the situation," he said. "See, Ylisse was once a much more militant state. The Plegian Crusades from fifteen years ago left both nations with scars that have never really healed, and it's because of those scars that the Exalt – Emm – chooses the path of peace. With respect to that, while Ylisse maintains a standing army, our numbers and armaments are much less than they were during the reign of our father. The problem is that tensions with Plegia are always high, and the Ylissean Army lacks the necessary manpower to police the homeland _and_ watch our borders with them."

The prince sighed. "That's why I formed the Shepherds. I wanted to have a small force that could go where the regular army could not, and protect the people in their time of need. It's all strictly voluntary here – no Shepherd is ever forced to go on a mission they don't want to be a part of."

Robin frowned. "That sounds all well and good, but I still don't see how this relates to me."

Chrom chuckled at the other man's impatience. "I'm getting there, Robin. Trust me, you'll appreciate the ride," he said. "The Shepherds haven't had problems responding to bandit raids ever since our formation. However, with the recent rise in Plegian raids, both Emmeryn and I agree that war is starting to seem more and more like an inevitability as opposed to simply a possibility."

"Now… this is where you come in," Chrom continued, almost smiling as Robin perked up. "The Shepherds are… well, we're not exactly a normal unit of the Ylissean Army. You'll understand what I mean as you spend more time with them. Trying to integrate us into the rest of the military would be the same as mixing oil and water; it simply wouldn't work, and that would give our chief strategists and military commanders a lot of problems, so we're generally left to our own devices. Frederick and I have always led the Shepherds by committee, but we're not as well-versed in tactics as someone who's studied and trained specifically for planning. The Shepherds need someone with the ability to make quick judgements on the fly."

"In other words, you need someone who doesn't just plan beforehand, but can also adapt his plans when the situation changes."

Chrom nodded. "Quite right. That's why I wanted to ask you to do it."

Robin raised an eyebrow. "Beg pardon, Chrom, but you're the _prince of the Halidom_," he said. "You have all the commanders and strategists of the army at your beck and call. Can't you just have one reassigned? There should be absolutely no reason for you to ask an amnesiac with no past or identity to be your tactician when you have so many proven strategists."

"Ah… see, that's where things get a little… complicated," the blue-haired prince replied. "I mentioned we're not normal, and I don't mean that just in terms of the diversity of personality. We're always – and I mean _always _ – on the move. All the strategists I know and have worked with in the past are career scholars. They're not suited to the missions or roles we take because they lack the physical conditioning required to stay mobile or direct battles from the front."

A spark triggered in Robin's mind. "But, you think I'm different," he said in realization. "You saw me fight on the front lines while calling out plans before and during combat situations."

Chrom grinned in satisfaction. "That's exactly right. I can't think of anyone more suited for this role than you are, Robin. You have a unique set of skills that - by themselves - are readily available, but it's a first that I find them all in one person." He chuckled. "That, and you're less of a pain in the rear than the rest of them. You judge things as you see them, without any bias."

Robin shook his head. "But… Chrom, how can you trust me so easily? How can you trust me with your life and the lives of all your men? You know nothing about me!"

"I don't, you're right. But I believe," the prince replied easily. "I believe that you were sent to us for a reason, Robin – that our meeting was made not by chance. Besides, you've given us nothing but sound advice thus far, and Frederick and I are in agreement that you possess a breadth of knowledge that is uncommon even for the most gifted students of the art of war. Without you, I doubt we'd have fared as well as we did in the two battles we've fought together."

Robin sighed in disbelief. "You're far too trusting, Chrom…" he replied. "I only hope it doesn't come back to bite you later on. But, if I can save you from yourself… I guess it'll be a good way to repay my debt to you."

Chrom grinned. "Thank you, Robin," he said, gripping the other man's forearm. "I knew I could count on you."

The tactician barked out a laugh. "Hah, more like you could count on the pressure of having asked me about it in front of the Exalt."

The two men shared a good laugh for a long moment.

"Well, that's pretty much all I needed to tell you," Chrom said as their laughs died down. "I'll be heading off to get some sleep. And you?"

"I just have a few things to think about. I'll turn in soon enough," Robin replied as Chrom stood up from his seat.

"Alright. You should get some rest, my friend," the prince said. "It's been a tough couple of days for you, and we'll need to get an early start when we march for Regna Ferox tomorrow morning."

Robin nodded. "Don't worry, I will. Good night, Chrom."

After the prince had left him to his thoughts, Robin sighed tiredly. He'd tried not to think about it, but the nightmarish scenes he'd witnessed had simply sprung up unbidden now that he wasn't occupied by his discussion with Chrom. Just thinking about all those dead people chilled him to the bone, as did recollections about what was apparently a female version of him that had nearly cut him down without any hesitation or recognition. Somehow… he was sure that sleep would not be coming easily to him for a while.

Imagining that those had to be some sort of vision of the past, Robin suddenly wasn't quite sure he wanted to know of his origins, after all.

_'What the hell was I…?'_


	5. Chapter Three - To the Warrior Realm

**Author's Note: Hello, and welcome! ****I apologize it took so long before I could churn this chapter out; I've just been extremely busy with academics (as per usual, really), and I could only really set aside maybe a few minutes at a time at most to get some words in. That said, I hope this chapter is worth the wait, and that my lengthy absences aren't a cause for people to just up and leave.  
**

**Onto brighter news: I'm finally on vacation for the first time in... well, six months. By my university's standards, that's an impossibly long time to go without a break, believe me. Hopefully I can get a few more chapters out over the coming weeks before the next trimester starts (which also happens to be my final trimester, so I'll actually be graduating really soon!).  
**

**Thoughts, feedback, questions, clarifications, and everything else in between can be sent to me through reviews or through PMs (preferably reviews, as usual; let's get the counter ticking upwards!). I will be happy to answer and converse with you all over almost anything and everything.  
**

**In advance, thank you ever so much for reading and reviewing. Your support will always drive me forward to better myself.**

**Without further ado, let's hop right into things, shall we? Naga be with you all!**

**... Or, for those of you who are Grimleal out there... PRAISE GRIMA!**

* * *

_**Chapter Three – To The Warrior Realm**_

Location: ?

The young knight woke with a start, his crystalline sapphire-like eyes snapping open and darting around frantically as he experienced the momentary panic that came with waking to unfamiliar surroundings. He shakily rose into a sitting position, taking in uneven breaths as he shook his head to try and rid himself of the last vestiges of sleep and exhaustion.

_'Where…?'_ he thought, his long cerulean hair draping over his shoulders and back like a curtain as he examined his surroundings. He was just on the edge of a forest, having set up his camp for the night beneath a large tree to escape the elements. The canopy of leaves and large trunks served as a natural shelter that protected him from the snow that had begun to fall the previous day, although a few patches of powdery white had made it through and were now littering the clearing he'd camped in. The campfire he'd set up only a few feet away from where he'd been asleep had long since burned out overnight, although the flames had done their job and kept him warm throughout the cold winter night.

After a few moments of quiet contemplation, his tired mind seemed to catch up to reality as it began to recall the events of the past three days.

* * *

_"Just go! Don't look back!" he said forcefully. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lucina look at him for what seemed to stretch into a number of seconds – almost as if she was engraving his image in her mind one last time – before she turned and ran for the portal._

_The cerulean-haired knight spared a glance to watch as Lucina leaped through and disappeared into the blue light before he turned his full attention back to the shambling horde of monsters that had been steadily approaching him all the while._

_"Good… At least we're certain that one of us already made it through…" he murmured, tightening his grip on the longsword in his left hand. He hoped she hadn't noticed, but the searching look she'd given him after he'd fixed her hair put paid to that hope. He thought he'd hid his hesitation rather well when his fingers had run through the shortened upper layers of her hair, but apparently nothing ever escaped the watchful eye of the very person he'd known and been with his entire life._

'… That shouldn't have had to happen…'

_Unpleasant memories of what Lucina had been forced to endure drifted to the forefront of his mind, bringing a pained grimace to his features. She of all people did not deserve to experience what she'd had to go through… but she did. He'd failed, and because of that, she…_

_He shook his head fiercely._ 'Stop that, get a grip on yourself! There will be plenty of time to wallow in self-pity later!'

_Eyes narrowed, the cerulean-haired knight refocused himself on the reality before him and appraised his situation. Behind him was the open Outrealm Gate that the Divine Dragon had opened, while the Fell Dragon's undead warriors continued to squeeze in through the sanctuary's only entrance._

_There was no way he could fight them all off, that much was a certainty. Even if he _could_ outfight any one of them, he'd eventually be overwhelmed by their sheer numbers advantage. No, the most he could do was stall them for a few moments, then leap into the portal when the opportunity presented itself._

'That _does_ beg the question, though: How long will it last…?'_ he thought as the monsters continued to close in around him, like a pack of predators surrounding their prey. He narrowed his eyes as he edged back ever so slightly with every advance they made, falling back into a combat stance as he did so. He twisted his body, allowing his right side to lead as his left foot slid back by half a pace. He raised his longsword, holding it up and back in a high two-handed grip, blade angled down at a forty-five degree angle over his head and right shoulder._

_As if spurred on by an unspoken signal, the first line of monsters that had made it through the door suddenly charged forward, with the monsters behind following suit several moments later. The monster at the front of the first wave – a fighter, judging by its axe and light leather armor – launched itself at the young knight, bringing its axe down with a wild, powerful swing. The knight, however, was already in motion. He took a step back and to the side with his right foot, allowing the axe to pass harmlessly through the air as his own blade came around in a quick one-handed counterattack that felled the monster in a single blow._

_Continuing his motion, his left foot now swung back and around as he raised his sword into a two-handed high guard. He flicked his wrist, parrying the blade of an enemy swordmaster before bringing his longsword around to fell the creature with a strike to the spine. He drew back, left side now leading as he held his blade at his opposite shoulder in an almost-perfect mimicry of Lucina's preferred stance. His free hand came up and struck his weapon's pommel, snapping it up and battering an axe to the side before the warrior's wild attack could even reach his inner circle of defense. The cerulean-haired knight continued the motion as he brought his weapon down and around in a circular motion that cut through the creature from left hip to right shoulder._

_The knight brought his longsword back, parrying a lunge from an undead hero before swinging his weapon around in a quick, economical arc that cut at the monster's exposed back. Without pause, he thrust his weapon forward with lightning speed, his weapon spearing an enemy warrior through the chest. As the skewered enemy began to leak black miasma, the cerulean-haired knight drew back slightly and used his entire body to help swing his weapon in a wide arc, using the disintegrating warrior as a flail and sending the enemies nearest him sprawling to the ground._

_Those monsters that had been knocked down were quickly trampled to death as the brethren behind them rushed forward, eager for death._

_Seeing the monsters rushing in, the cerulean-haired knight steadily began to give ground, using his weapon's reach to keep them at bay as he slowly backed towards the Outrealm Gate behind him. He swung his longsword in a quick, graceful arc, sweeping aside a swordmaster's blade before cutting back the same way and striking the undead creature down. Continuing the motion into a spin, he pivoted on his left foot and planted his right a step back before lunging forward, jabbing the pommel of his sword directly into the throat of a mercenary with enough force to crush a normal man's windpipe. The damage he'd dealt was hardly the fatal blow needed, so the knight drew his blade back and struck again, the creature's body crumpling as his longsword cut through it like paper._

_His eyes cut to the left as a fighter entered his field of vision, axe raised. The knight twisted on his left foot, lashing out with a high kick that caught the fighter right in the temple, rocking it. The motion led directly into his next attack as his longsword followed through, cutting right through leather armor and decaying flesh without any resistance. Planting his right foot on the ground, he parried a strike from an opportunistic myrmidon before moving into a spin and swinging his longsword around him in a massive arc that cut through four monsters that were trying to attack him from different directions._

_He quickly looked around to reassess his situation, grimacing as he quickly discovered that even the dozen creatures he'd just slain hadn't done much to dent the number of enemies he was still facing. Indeed, more and more were continuing to shamble in through the only entrance and exit of the inner sanctuary, with no foreseeable end in sight. To add to his problems, the shimmering glow bathing him in a pale blue light let him know that he had no ground left to give – Naga's Outrealm Gate was directly behind him now._

_However, the way he'd chosen to fight _had_ allowed him to create some space between himself and the Fell Dragon's horde… and that space now presented him with the opportunity he needed._

_Knowing that there was nothing left he could possibly do here, the knight decided now was as good a time as any to follow Lucina through. He quickly leaped back and blindly threw himself through the Outrealm Gate, landing hard on a solid surface. As the light of the Outrealms engulfed the knight, he smiled grimly from where he lay in a heap as he watched the gateway close, preventing any of the monsters from following him._

_With a few moments to spare now that he'd escaped the Fell Dragon's hordes, the knight allowed himself some time to catch his breath as he slowly brought himself back to his feet. Sheathing his sword, he took a look around, finding that no matter which way he looked he saw nothing but the same gentle blue glow. Idly, the knight wondered just how he was supposed to know where to go in something as monotonous as an endless expanse of blue light._

_As if in reply, a pathway of white light erupted from the "ground" beneath him, illuminating a road forward for the knight to follow._

_"_… _I suppose that answers that question…" he murmured, shrugging to himself before deciding that there wasn't anything better he could do but follow the path being laid out for him. With nothing else to really lose, he began to walk._

_It might have been a moment, or it may have been forever, but the knight traveled through the seeming nothingness of the Outrealms without any real measure or sense of time. Only when the seemingly endless path of light came to an end did the knight stop walking. A portal of similarly white light suddenly flared into existence before him, signalling that his journey through the Outrealms was coming to an end._

_The knight took a deep breath and leaped through the gateway into the unknown, the blinding light swallowing him up for a brief moment before dissipating to be replaced by endless blue skies and white clouds. He was distracted enough by the unfamiliar sight– used as he was to the desolate skies and dark clouds of his own time – that he only realized just how far he was falling when he was mere moments from hitting the ground._

_He had barely enough time to twist his body into a better position and curl, allowing him to roll right as he hit the ground. The thick layer of snow covering the ground helped to lessen the impacts of the fall and roll, but the feedback through his breastplate still shook him badly, knocking the wind from his lungs with each impact._

_The knight lay there for a few moments as he caught his breath, almost as if he were content to just bathe in the sunlight he hadn't seen or felt for the longest time. His expression took on one of wonder as he took in the sights around him, trying to remember the last time he'd ever seen something so bright, clear, and beautiful._

'… I can't even remember when it was I last saw such clear skies…' _he thought as he slowly picked himself up off the snow-covered ground. He took some time to look around, admiring his unfamiliar surroundings that nonetheless seemed to pulse with life even during a Northern winter._

_However, a familiar growl snapped him out of his reverie, his blood turning to ice as it registered. _'No… no, no, no! That's impossible…!'

_He scrambled to a knee and turned in the direction of the sound, finding a large group of the same creatures from his time arrayed around him in a half-circle, growling as they breathed out purple miasma._

_"Even here… But how…?" he whispered as he stared in disbelief. There was no way… he'd seen the gate close! None of them should have been able to make it through!_

_The knight frowned. Regardless of how they got here, the fact was that they _were _here…_

_"If they're already here, then that makes everything just that much harder…" he murmured, his lips curling into a bitter smile. "Heh… we just can't catch a break, can we…?"_

_He rose to his feet, his sapphire eyes blazing with fiery resolve. "… Then so be it…!" he said, his blade flashing out of its scabbard and into his left hand. "As if I'd let you stop me!"_

* * *

The young man sighed._ 'Right… I'm back in the past…'_ he thought, looking up at the same sky that had so enthralled him upon his arrival. He rose to his feet slowly, hissing in pain as his injuries protested the action, reminding him that he'd been fighting almost non-stop since before even traveling through the Outrealms. While he was no stranger to combat and lack of rest, the young knight knew that exhaustion and injury were bound to catch up to him eventually if he continued to push himself as he was now. He couldn't afford to get himself killed in such a way, but, at the same time, he couldn't simply let any of those undead monsters roam freely, either.

_'_… _And I can't keep Lucina waiting, either…'_

He slowly walked over to where his sheathed longsword lay against the great tree he'd taken shelter under, picking the weapon up in one hand and examining it. His eyes and the fingers of his free hand ran along the prayer runes inscribed upon the sword's sheath, reminding him quite clearly of the purpose he'd sworn himself to. His grip on his beloved weapon tightened for a moment at the thought of his constant shortcomings in that regard before he swung it around and buckled it to the belt that looped over his left shoulder, the familiar feeling of his sword resting at a diagonal across his back giving him a sense of comfort even in unfamiliar territory.

Satisfied, the knight moved out from under his temporary shelter and over to the edge of the forest, gazing at the broad, snow-covered expanse that greeted him. His thoughts again wandered to Lucina, who always loved playing outdoors after each winter's first snowfall.

His hand tightened into a fist. "Lucina…" he whispered, unable to mask his worry for his lifelong companion as he looked up at the clear, blue skies. They may have been under the same sky… but the knowledge still did nothing to put the young knight at ease. She was strong, but in her current state she was also very fragile… she'd stuck to him like a lifeline since she'd been freed from captivity, and it frightened him to imagine how she was currently holding up without a familiar face or comforting presence to be able to turn to.

_'Wherever you are… please, be safe…'_

* * *

Location: Outskirts of Ylisstol

Robin sighed tiredly as he hefted his traveling pack up higher onto his shoulders. As he'd expected, sleep had _not_ come easily to him last night. Only after several hours of tossing and turning was the tactician finally able to surrender himself to temporary oblivion, and even then he'd not been able to stay asleep for more than a couple of hours.

_'Then again… who could really sleep in peace for an extended period of time after having seen _that_?' _he thought to himself as the rest of the Shepherds milled about in the general vicinity, unaware of what was going through their newest member's mind.

The tactician shifted his pack again, wondering if he could figure out a better way to transport it before leaving. Granted, he appreciated how the Shepherds had been kind enough to outfit him with everything he might need for the journey to Regna Ferox and back, but he still disliked the idea of carrying this much weight on his back, especially with how it was pressing his heavy coat to his back.

He looked around at the other members of the group: Chrom stood a short distance away, seemingly deep in thought as he stared at the road that led north towards the Ylissean-Feroxi border. Frederick had gone off ahead to scout the road for potential dangers, taking Sully with him. Lissa was speaking with Sumia, their hushed tones making it impossible for the tactician to discern their topic of discussion, but the occasional bouts of laughter and giggling from the two let him know that it was at the very least something that kept the two entertained. Vaike, on the other hand, was engaged in physical exercises, loudly counting out every repetition as if to catch the attention of everyone around him.

Virion, who was sitting on a rock nearby as he tested the pull of his weapon's bowstring using an arrow from his quiver, looked up at the spectacle Vaike was making of himself, locked eyes with Robin, and gave an amused shrug before resuming his work on his bow.

Robin chuckled in reply, but quickly grew serious when he noticed Chrom was walking up to them, the newly-returned Frederick now present as always at his liege's side.

"Alright, is everyone ready?" the prince asked, scanning his small band of troops as the rest of the Shepherds stopped whatever they were doing to face him. "We've a long march ahead of us."

Before anyone could move or say anything, Robin heard yelling, along with the sound of armor plates clanking against each other and the galloping of a horse's hooves.

"W-wait! Hey! Wait for me!"

The small group of Shepherds turned, many wearing surprised expressions as they all saw an olive-haired knight in green armor running up to them, huffing as he led his horse by the reins. He doubled over as soon as he reached Chrom, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"Why… why am I the last… to hear about… this expedition… to Ferox?" he gasped out between breaths.

Chrom and Lissa's eyebrows both shot up as the siblings quickly shared a look of confusion.

"Huh? But Vaike was supposed to…" Lissa trailed off, before her confused expression morphed into one of annoyance as she turned to the bare-chested fighter of the group. "Vaike! Did you forget to tell Stahl about our mission?!"

Everyone turned to look at Vaike, who immediately threw his hands up.

"H-hey! The Vaike never forgets!" he said, although Lissa's glare made him take a step back. "I… I just don't always remember, is all…"

Lissa brought a hand to her forehead as she groaned in frustration. "Ugh… I swear, you'd forget your own name if you weren't constantly saying it yourself!" Suddenly, she furrowed her brows as a thought came to her. "Speaking of which, are you _SURE _you remembered to bring your axe, this time?"

"Hey! That was just that one time!" Vaike retorted. When Lissa glared at him again, he quickly added, "… Okay, twice. But training sessions don't count!"

Chrom and Lissa both crossed their arms and stared at Vaike as if to question his answer, but the fighter simply grinned in response. "Anyway, I got it right here. Teach is locked and loaded and ready for action!" he said, hefting a decently-sized axe over his shoulder before bending over to give the olive-haired knight – _Stahl_, Robin reminded himself – a slap on the shoulder. "Good to have you along, Stahl ol' buddy."

Stahl, for his part, gave Vaike a defeated look. "That makes one of us," he replied, prompting Lissa to giggle to herself at Vaike's thunderstruck expression. "I was in such a hurry, I had to miss breakfast! There were muffins, and cakes, and… Well, I can tell you all about it while we march…"

As the knight straightened with a sigh, Robin walked up to him. "So… your name's Stahl, right?" he asked.

Chrom, expression sheepish, stepped in. "Ah, right. I'm sorry for not introducing you, Robin," he said. "This is Stahl, one of our finest."

Robin nodded, extending a hand. "Nice to meet you, Stahl."

Stahl grinned as he shook Robin's hand. "Hello, Robin. Miriel told me we had a new Shepherd; guess that would be you," he said. At Robin's questioning look, he coughed awkwardly. "Ah… Miriel's one of our mages. She should be catching up with us shortly."

"Miriel? She's actually decided to get out of the library?" Vaike asked.

Ignoring Vaike, Chrom simply turned to Stahl. "Well, at least you're here with us now," he said. "Mount up and ride on out with Frederick. Sully should still be up the road holding station, so go on ahead of us and meet up with her."

Giving Chrom a nod and a salute, Stahl swung up onto his horse's saddle and nudged it forward into a trot, falling into position next to Frederick's own armored warhorse as the two knights rode out ahead, leaving the rest of the group to move at a less urgent pace.

"So, uh… Chrom…" Robin ventured when the two knights were just out of sight.

Chrom turned, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, Robin? No need to hesitate. Speak your mind. You _are_ my tactician now," the prince said.

The white-haired tactician shrugged helplessly. "Sorry, still getting used to that," he replied. "Anyway… I'm just curious… why didn't Stahl simply ride his horse out here?"

Chrom paused for a moment, his mind processing Robin's question, before he suddenly burst into laughter, Lissa and Sumia coming to the same conclusion a few moments later and erupting into their own fits of laughter and giggles.

"He's… well, a little scatter-brained at times," he replied. "But I wasn't lying when I said he's one of our finest."

Robin nodded thoughtfully. _'Huh… guess that's something to keep in mind… don't ever take demeanor off the battlefield as a straight-up indicator of combat prowess.'_

* * *

Location: The Northroad

It was approaching midday of the fourth day of their journey by the time the main group of Shepherds happened upon Frederick, Sully, and Stahl waiting at the crest of a hill. The three knights had served as an advance guard for the group ever since setting out, only falling back when it came time to set up camp. If they'd stopped instead of keeping the distance Frederick and Robin had agreed upon, then that meant there could only be trouble up ahead.

"Milord, look over there," he said, hefting his lance and pointing it down the road.

Chrom walked up next to Frederick and looked out, a frown quickly crossing his features as he saw just what his knight had wanted him to see.

"Gods, have the Risen spread this far already?" he murmured, a hand gripping Falchion's hilt tightly. Indeed, down the road were dark humanoid forms – the same as what they'd fought previously in the middle of the forest fire.

Robin's brows furrowed. "_Risen_?" he asked quizzically, no doubt echoing the sentiments of the other Shepherds.

"We needed a name for this new threat," Frederick supplied. "So, at the council session, it was decided that we would call these undead fiends the 'Risen'."

Chrom shook his head. "It was about the only thing that everyone could agree upon," he muttered, before turning to Robin. "Well, then, Tactician Robin. The field is yours. Direct us as you see fit."

Said tactician tried to keep a silly grin from crossing his features. He failed miserably at it, something that Lissa did _not_ fail to notice.

"Looks like _someone_ likes the sound of his new title," she chirped cheekily, making Robin flush a light pink in response.

"S-shut up," he said, trying to salvage his dignity. "L-let's focus on the battle at hand. Frederick, what can you tell me of the enemies we're facing?"

The knight's brows furrowed in thought as he looked out at the distant enemies. "Similar in composition and number to our adversaries from yesterday," he replied. "However, there are also some lance-wielding soldiers in addition to swordsmen and axe fighters. Most of them are spread out on our side of the river, although it seems a few have still yet to cross the bridge from the other side."

Robin frowned as he absorbed this information. That… was not exactly what he'd wanted to hear. It took him a few moments of careful thought, but he was still able to work around the information and formulate a plan of action. It sounded simple enough on paper – or in his mind, in this case – but it was still rather delicate, given the large numbers disadvantage.

"Alright, here's what we'll do," he said, raising his voice so everyone could hear him. "Frederick, Stahl, and Sully will be our mobile unit. Frederick, move into the trees on the left. Stahl and Sully, do the same on the right. The rest of us will move up and engage the main body of enemies on the road. When the Risen start to collapse in on us, the three of you will jump in and attack from the rear. Make sure you keep moving; your mobility is probably our greatest asset at the moment, so don't allow yourselves to get locked down by combat. Understood?"

Frederick frowned – clearly he still didn't fully trust Robin – and turned to Chrom. The prince nodded to indicate his assent to Robin's plan. Satisfied for the time being, Frederick motioned to Sully and Stahl, the three mounted knights breaking away towards their assigned clusters of trees on either side of the road.

Robin sighed. _'Looks like Frederick's going to give me a bit of a hard time…'_ he grumbled internally, but quickly pushed it aside. There'd be time for that later.

"Right, now that that's taken care of…" Robin continued, dropping his pack as the rest of the Shepherds did the same. "Chrom and Vaike will be the vanguard; I'll be your second line, while Virion will advance a few paces behind us and provide some covering fire. Sumia, stay with Lissa at the rear and guard her if anything gets past us or if she needs to move up and provide some healing."

A chorus of acknowledgements went around as packs were dropped and weapons were unsheathed and readied. The Shepherds hastily took to the positions Robin had outlined, forming around Robin, who stood at the formation's center.

"Alright, everyone, remember what we're up against!" Chrom said as he stepped up to the front of the formation.

Vaike grinned as he took his place next to the Ylissean prince, hand reaching over his shoulder to grasp at his weapon. "Mya ha! They'll be remembering _ME_ once I drive my axe into their…" Vaike trailed off, his confident grin morphing into a confused expression. "Wait… my axe. Where's my axe?!"

Chrom turned to look at the other man. "Vaike, this is no time for jokes…" Chrom growled out.

Vaike's expression grew panicked. "I'm serious! It's gone, but I _just_ had it with me a second ago! It's got to be around here somewhere…"

"Is he serious?" Robin asked, his stunned expression quickly transforming into one of absolute disbelief as he watched Vaike search his person and his surroundings in almost comical fashion. "H-he's actually serious…!"

Lissa half-sighed, half-groaned to herself as she put a hand to her forehead. "Ugh… Vaike… I can't even say I'm surprised anymore…"

"I don't even know how many times this makes it now…" Sumia mumbled to herself.

Chrom felt his eye twitch. "Vaike! Look, if you don't have it, then keep to the rear with Lissa!" he commanded, clearly not in the mood for the other man's antics. Suitably chastised, the weapon-less fighter withdrew to the rear of the formation, leaving Chrom as the only man in front.

Robin, however, stepped forward to fill in Vaike's spot. When Chrom shot him a questioning look, he shrugged. "Change of plans," he replied easily. "It doesn't change our overall strategy, but Vaike not having a weapon means we'll just have to adjust and make do with the manpower we have right now."

The blue-haired prince smiled for a moment, but his lips quickly fell into a frown. "Risen this far north doesn't bode well, though…" he said, an undertone of worry lacing his words as the group began a steady advance. "We've already received word of Risen sightings in other areas of Ylisse, especially to the east… It concerns me that we never received a report from the platoon we had patrolling this area."

"Try not to worry too much," Robin replied. At Chrom's questioning look, he continued. "Think about it. They're a platoon, and they're in charge of patrolling a fairly large area. Maybe they haven't come across this group just yet. It wouldn't surprise me considering the size of the unit and the area. We can at least do our part on the way and make sure these Risen can't bring harm to any of the citizens."

Chrom nodded, seemingly satisfied with Robin's reasoning.

It only took minutes before the group happened upon the Risen that they'd spotted from the crest of the hill. Just as the great knight had reported, there were about a dozen of the creatures spread out on either side of the bridge the Shepherds needed to cross. Most of them looked the same as those they'd fought yesterday: leather armor covered gray, decaying flesh, while masks that depicted faces frozen in enraged expressions covered their faces, leaving only holes through which one could see their glowing red eyes. However, a few among them were equipped with the chain and platemail armor typical of lance-wielding infantry, something Robin would need to take into account as they engaged in combat.

_'Damn it, Vaike, why'd you have to go and forget your axe?'_ he thought to himself, throwing a sharp glance over his shoulder at the chastised fighter sulking to the rear of the formation.

However, unlike the Risen from yesterday, these ones were simply milling about without aim. Robin briefly wondered why before a quick glance revealed that they didn't have a larger "chief" among their number like the one that had nearly killed him yesterday were it not for Marth's aid. Perhaps they required the presence of a higher ranked monster in order to gain all their functions? It was certainly something to think about, the tactician surmised, before he pushed the thought to the side and refocused on the battle at hand.

"Alright, listen up!" Robin said. "Remember to cover each other out there! As much as possible, no one should be fighting alone!"

With his piece said, the tactician turned to lock eyes with Chrom. The pair exchanged grave nods, before Chrom raised his sword.

"Shepherds! Attack!" the Ylissean prince cried out. He quickly broke into a sprint, Robin falling into step just a couple of paces behind him. The Risen seemingly perked up at their approaching presence, and instinctively rose to meet their attackers.

Robin flipped his tome open, runes flaring to life around him as he channeled mana into the spell. "Fire!" he called out as he flicked his wrist, letting loose a single ball of flame that blasted a Risen fighter, the monster dissipating into fog where it stood. As Chrom leaped into the melee, Robin closed his tome and drew his sword with his free hand before following the other man in, catching an axe before it cleaved into the prince from the side.

The tactician pushed hard against the Risen barbarian – its axe grinding against his sword as they fought for supremacy – before an arrow buried itself into the creature's neck. Its resistance faltered, allowing Robin to shove the axe aside before cutting it down. Turning away from the dissolving creature, Robin sheathed his sword once again as he opened his tome, runes once again coming to life. He raised his hand, a bolt of lightning shooting out and spearing through the chest of a Risen swordsman. A second Risen attempted to blindside the tactician, but an arrow from Virion pierced deep into its elbow, preventing it from finishing its attack and allowing Robin to turn and blast the creature in the chest with a bolt of lightning.

Nodding his thanks to the archer, who returned it with a casual salute, Robin allowed himself a brief moment to scan the battlefield for immediate threats, but the commotion caused by the three knights' ambush had quickly tipped the odds in the Shepherds' favor. Spotting a Risen lance soldier charging at Chrom, who was too focused on the enemy in front of him to notice, Robin immediately gathered his mana and focused on his spell, willing it to charge faster as his hand began to crackle with lightning.

"Boo-yah!" Vaike yelled as he suddenly barreled headlong into the Risen soldier, bowling the creature over before bringing his axe down into its chest. Blinking in surprise, Robin nearly lost focus on his spell as Vaike charged into the fray next to Chrom, letting out excited whoops and yells as he swung his axe with wild abandon alongside the prince.

Searching for another target, Robin quickly loosed his primed spell at a barbarian that was harrying Sully, while a pair of fireballs incinerated another lance soldier that had been pressuring Stahl.

Robin frowned. _'Wait a minute… we don't have any other mages…'_ he thought. He turned to look, finding a red-haired woman calmly walking up to him, a red-covered tome in her hand. She wore a dark robe, baggy deep green trousers and brown leather traveling boots. A wide-brimmed, pointy hat sat upon her head, which along with her robes marked her as a mage.

"I apologize for the delay," she said, her free hand going up to adjust the spectacles resting on the bridge of her nose. "Allow me to assist you in extirpating these brutish creatures."

The tactician blinked at her odd choice of words. "Er… thanks? I think?" he said. "Who _are_ you, exactly?"

"Ah, perchance you are the tactician Robin, yes?" she replied. "I am Miriel, a scholar and mage serving the Ylissean royal family. I also undertake duties as one of Prince Chrom's Shepherds when the need arises."

Robin nodded. "I see. Well met, Miriel," he said. "I take it you were the one who brought Vaike his axe?" He'd normally have been less inclined to engage in a conversation with someone while in the middle of battle, but the majority of the Risen this side of the bridge had already been dealt with.

Miriel frowned. "Quite right, tactician," the mage replied. "While I'd not thought such dereliction permissible or possible amongst the Shepherds, it would have been remiss of me not to return the implement to Vaike, however much of an ignoramus he might be."

The tactician couldn't help but chuckle at Miriel's words. "Judging by what I've heard from Lissa and Sumia, this isn't the first time this has happened, too."

If anything, Miriel's frown deepened. "Indeed. I may have to conclude that the time for stern words of disapprobation is over," she replied, fixing her spectacles once more. "Perhaps I will go and offer to cast an affixation spell to bind his axe to his hands… permanently. Please excuse me."

Robin laughed lightly as Miriel took her leave, no doubt to try and do something about Vaike's chronic carelessness. He wiped the mirth from his face as Chrom approached, relief crossing his features when he saw that no harm had befallen the prince. Not a moment later, Frederick rode up to the pair, with Robin somewhat disgruntled to see that, once again, Frederick's armor had managed to remain spotless in spite of the dust, blood, and grime of battle.

"What next, Robin?" Chrom asked, resting his sword Falchion over his shoulder. "Guide our swords as you see fit."

Frederick frowned in thought. "Might I advise patience, milord?" he said. "Robin has proven himself thus far to be a fine tactician for our needs, but we have still been working him rather mercilessly ever since finding him. No doubt even one as brilliant as he is would wear themselves thin; even the best of us need rest, after all."

Robin felt his eyebrows rise at Frederick's comments. _'… Well, I'll be damned…'_ he thought. _'Frederick, you just might be an okay guy, after all…'_

"Yes, of course… I'm sorry," Chrom said, directing his apology at Robin.

The white-haired tactician shook his head. "No, it's fine. Don't worry about it, Chrom," he replied. "You put your faith in me, and so did Exalt Emmeryn. I won't betray that trust."

"I'm glad I can rely on you, Robin…" Chrom said, trailing off as he stared at something across the bridge. Robin did the same, and whatever good cheer he may have had instantly melted.

There, in the midst of a group of now-growling Risen – as many as the group they'd just fought – stood the "chief" that Robin had been searching for earlier. The larger Risen hefted a wicked throwing axe in one hand and let out a blood-curdling scream, the rest of the monsters surrounding it raising their own weapons and letting out a cacophony of cries before they all started grouping together.

_'Well, I guess that's a point towards my theory…'_

Robin turned to Chrom, his eyes voicing his unspoken question. The prince simply nodded, and Robin took his cue and began shouting orders.

"Alright, close up formation! Vaike! Get yourself next to Chrom, hurry!" he called out, the fighter hurriedly taking his place next to Ylisse's prince. "Frederick, Sully, and Stahl, take point! Wait for my signal, I'll need you to charge in and break the enemy's cohesion, then circle around and resume hit-and-run attacks when the rest of us move in! Miriel and Virion will provide everyone with long-range support! Sumia, keep Lissa safe and escort her if she needs to heal someone! Everyone, move!"

The Shepherds quickly regrouped around Robin, the three mounted knights in the lead. As they slowly made their way forward, the tactician looked over his shoulder, catching the eye of both Miriel and Virion.

"If you ever get the opportunity to take out the big one, make the most of it," he said. "The Risen seem to lose cohesion without their pack leader, so if we can take it out, then that should make the rest a bit easier."

The two nodded their assent. "You can count on yours truly. I shall fell the beast with but a single arrow from my quiver," Virion replied.

"Indeed. Our strike will be quick and surgical," Miriel added.

Robin smiled grimly. "Good to hear. I'm counting on you," he said, before turning to the front once more.

His eyes narrowed as the Shepherds approached the bridge and the growling Risen that awaited them on the other side. He unconsciously held his breath, waiting, waiting, waiting… until Frederick's warhorse took its first step onto the bridge.

_'There!'_

"Frederick, go now."

The knight glanced back and nodded before kicking his horse into a gallop, Sully and Stahl quickly following suit but a moment later.

"Chrom, Vaike, follow them in!"

The two front-line fighters surged forward in the wake of the three knights, Robin suiting action to words and following them into the fray. Frederick quickly outpaced the rest of the Shepherds as he charged right into the middle of the Risen, swinging his spear left and right and splitting the group in two. Sully and Stahl followed the great knight closely, covering his flanks as they added their own swings of spear and blade to further open the battleground up.

Robin released his primed thunder spell, a bolt of lightning flying out and scorching a Risen fighter. A pair of fireballs flew in from behind him, crashing into the ground between a pair of the undead swordsmen and causing an explosion that sent them flying. One of them dissipated mid-air, while the other landed in a heap on the ground, only for Virion to snipe it with a well-placed arrow right between the eyes.

Joining in the general melee, Robin drew his sword and leaped into the fray, catching an axe with his sword before it could cleave into Vaike's unarmored back. The tactician flicked his wrist, wrenching the axe to the side as he took a step in the other direction. With nothing to arrest its momentum, the Risen stumbled to the ground, Robin's blade quickly scything through its back and ending its existence.

"Robin, look out!"

The tactician's head shot up in alarm, his danger sense screaming at him to move. Instinctively, he turned around and raised his sword…

… just in time to deflect the Risen chief's thrown axe, the impact between the two weapons sending the axe spinning skyward while the the tactician was thrown back several feet. Robin landed roughly on his back, but his presence of mind allowed him to dig his sword into the earth and twist his body into a roll, coming up on one knee with his free hand supporting his weight.

The Risen chief grabbed its spinning weapon out of the air and charged the downed tactician, letting out a feral roar as black miasma spilled from its lips. Robin left his sword planted in the ground and brought out his tome, snapping it open as lightning began to crackle in his free hand. As the by-now-familiar magic circle and runes formed around him, the tactician dimly heard Chrom yelling something at him, but he pushed it from his mind and kept his concentration and gaze firmly fixed on the oncoming Risen.

He raised his hand and quickly fired off a quick Thunder spell he'd charged, a golden lightning bolt leaping out from a magic circle and striking the Risen chief, tendrils of energy arcing over its grey skin as it staggered slightly and roared in pain and rage. Robin continued to pour mana into his tome, its pages flipping wildly as he pulled his sword out of the ground and brandished it in a one-handed grip.

The white-haired tactician narrowed his eyes as the Risen chief recklessly rushed at him and brought its axe down in a crushing blow, forcing him to dive to the side. He continued the motion into a roll, swiftly rising to his feet even as the undead barbarian turned around and lashed out with its short axe. Robin quickly raised his sword and deflected the staggeringly powerful blow, using the motion to push off the axe and create some more distance even as the jarring impact knocked his sword from his hand.

As Robin fell back, he felt his tome pulse with energy, letting him know that his spell was now primed and ready. He ground his heels into the dirt, sliding back as lightning began to crackle within his right hand. He narrowed his eyes as the Risen chief raised its short axe and prepared to throw the weapon. As it drew back, a pair of fireballs suddenly slammed into the monster and the ground, scorching the monster and throwing it off-balance with the force of the blast.

As the Risen staggered, an arrow flew in and pierced its hand, forcing it to drop the weapon and giving Robin an opportunity he would not waste. The tactician raised his right hand, calling upon the thunder he currently held within, and thrust his open palm forward as it continued to crackle with mana.

"Elthunder!" he called out, three bolts of lightning lancing out from his outstretched hand and striking the Risen head on. The Risen froze as the bolts speared through it, its growls suddenly turning into a whimpering moan as its arms fell limp at its side. The red glow left its eyes as it staggered forward, dissipating into black miasma before it could even hit the ground.

The remaining Risen suddenly froze for a moment, the loss of their leader having an apparent effect on them as they seemed to lose all sense of aggression. Chrom, Vaike, and the three mounted knights wasted no time in overpowering them, cutting down the monsters where they stood before they could regain any of the function.

With the battle winding down, Robin searched out both Virion and Miriel, giving them his thanks for their earlier help. Virion had merely chuckled and waved it off, saying that the archest of archers would never let down his allies in their time of need. Miriel had been more taciturn about it, claiming that it the battle had helped her gather more data to compile into a report she would publish at a later date, but Robin simply left that one up to her academic personality.

As the Shepherds regrouped and Lissa began walking around checking on everyone's injuries, Robin allowed himself to run through the battle as it happened, reliving each moment and all the decisions he'd made throughout that battle. His first battle as a Shepherd had been a fairly small one overall – closer to a skirmish than a full-on battle – so the room for error was a fair ways larger than it normally would be given the number of belligerents on both sides. Still, he was glad that he couldn't see too many opportunities for improvement in _this_ particular battle, but it paid to always analyze ways by which he could hone his craft.

_'The more skilled I get, the more likely it is that everyone can come home at the end of each day,' _he thought to himself as he picked up his sword from where it had fallen, giving it a once over to check its condition before sheathing it.

"Glad that's over. Good riddance, I'd say," Chrom said as he walked up to Robin, snapping the tactician out of his thoughts. "That was some fine work, Robin. That last stunt looked a bit reckless, but I'll let it slide since it worked."

The tactician chuckled lightly. "We all had our roles to play, Chrom," he replied. "It might have been a very different story had we not all done our part. I'm sorry if I worried you."

Chrom nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. "They weren't as difficult a fight this time around, though," he said.

"Perhaps," Robin replied. "But we've also got greater numbers this time around. And we're actually wide awake."

A chuckle greeted the tactician's droll reply. "There is that," the prince replied, before he grimaced. "But if they're appearing this far up the Northroad…"

"Then no path is safe," Frederick finished. "We'll need to stay wary as we advance."

"Indeed…" Chrom murmured. "I'm also worried that we haven't come across the patrol yet. I hope nothing's befallen them, but…"

"All we can do is keep moving," Robin said. "The sooner we get to Regna Ferox, the sooner we can petition them for aid."

Chrom could only nod in reply as his tactician set about giving orders once more.

* * *

After about an hour of walking, the Shepherds finally happened upon the platoon that was supposed to have been patrolling the Northroad. Robin had suspected something was amiss when the three knights had come into view, clearly waiting for the rest of the group as they gazed at something to the side of the road.

"… We found them, milord…" Frederick reported, unable to tear his forlorn gaze away from the sight. "It was a massacre."

Ten soldiers lay dead where they had been felled, sporting horrendous wounds all across their bodies. Blood spilled from jagged gashes and tears in their flesh, staining the vibrant green field red. There was evidence that pointed to fallen Risen, as well, and Robin realized why the initial group they'd fought hadn't given them as much trouble as the ones they'd fought previously.

_'The Risen chief and the ones accompanying it had been caught up here…'_ he thought to himself. _'These soldiers had no idea we were coming… but they made our lives a lot easier than it would have been had we faced all of them at the same time…'_

Robin could see the Shepherds' differing reactions: horror from Lissa and Sumia, anger from Sully and Vaike, and helpless frustration from Chrom and Frederick. Even Virion and Miriel showed hints of regret at the discovery of the patrol's fate. He felt similarly – a loss of life was always tragic, after all – but he kept all but the barest hints of distress from his features. It was one of the primary tenets of being a tactician: one always had to be in control of his or her emotions. It was something he had remembered, and something he wanted to uphold.

"… We should gather the bodies up and give them a funeral pyre," he said, his voice quiet but still loud enough to snap everyone out of their various distracted states. "There isn't enough time for us to dig any graves, and we can't afford to sacrifice manpower to deliver a message back to Ylisstol… but we can at least do this for them before carrying on our way."

As everyone wordlessly set about the grim task, Robin could only watch as Chrom picked his way through each of the corpses that hadn't been moved yet. A teary-eyed Lissa silently followed her brother as he checked each body in what was an obviously hopeless and futile search for survivors.

_'Chrom…'_ Robin thought, shaking his head and moving to turn away, but he caught a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye. _'Hm?'_

The tactician stopped and looked again, brows furrowed. He began walking in the direction where he'd seen a flash of white, ignoring Chrom and Lissa's confused calls as he gingerly stepped through the bloodied blades of grass.

As he made his way around a large rock, his expression lifted slightly. "Well… what have we here?" he said, feeling a little cheer at his discovery. There _had_ been a survivor. It wasn't human, but it was a survivor nonetheless.

"Hey, is that what I think it is?" Lissa asked as she peered around the tactician.

Leaning against the rock was a wounded pegasus. It was clad in light armor that marked it as belonging to one of Ylisse's pegasus knights.

Chrom frowned. "It's a pegasus, all right," he said as he looked around, noticing several marks on its armor. "It looks to be hurt. We should at least see if we can help it any…"

He moved in closer and reached a hand out, but the pegasus suddenly reared up and whinnied in what Robin thought was a combination of anger and fear. It lashed out in a frenzy, its hooves nearly flattening Chrom as it tried to keep the man away.

"WHOA! Down, girl! Easy there!" Chrom yelled as he quickly backed off from the enraged animal.

"Captain! One moment!" came an unexpected voice. The trio looked to see Sumia approaching them, the normally clumsy girl wearing an urgent expression on her face. She made to say something…

… but she tripped over her own feet and planted herself in the ground face-first with another cringe-worthy thud before she could even get the words out.

Chrom, alarmed by Sumia's fall, rushed to her side. "Sumia! Are you alright?!" he said as the rookie Shepherd picked herself up off the ground and dusted her uniform off. When he found she was alright, his face softened into a relieved expression. "… Those boots of yours again?"

"No! I mean, yes! I mean…" Sumia stammered out before she sighed in resigned embarrassment.

Robin couldn't stop the amused smile that had twisted his lips upwards as a distinct sense of déjà vu washed over him. Lissa was not quite so controlled, giggling at the scene before her. Both the tactician and princess thankfully remained ignored by the pair.

"Well, come no closer," Chrom commanded, holding his arms out to try and prevent Sumia from getting past. "This beast is crazed!"

Sumia shook her head and smiled lightly. "It's okay, Captain," she said, pushing Chrom's arms down and moving past him. "I can handle this…"

Robin could only watch as Sumia carefully approached the injured pegasus as it lay on its side, watching her with eyes that showed a mix of both anxiety and curiosity.

"Shhh… easy now, girl…" she cooed and whispered gently as she approached the pegasus. "I won't hurt you…"

Much to the amazement of the three, the pegasus did not display any of its earlier panic as Sumia approached. Eventually, she made it within arm's reach and reached out to test the waters. When the pegasus made not a single sound or movement that could be interpreted as a warning sign, Sumia smiled as her hand laid itself upon the animal's neck, stroking it softly.

"Shhh…" she whispered again as she embraced the pegasus, caressing both snout and neck as she leaned her head against the creature.

_'… Wow. Now that is a gift.'_

Robin crossed his arms. "Alright, that was impressive, I'm not going to lie," he said. "How did she manage to calm it down so quickly?"

Next to the tactician, Lissa was bouncing with excitement. "Wow! That was incredible, Sumia!"

Chrom nodded. "It certainly was," he said softly, looking at the girl in a new light. "I've never seen anything quite like it."

"Oh, its… it's nothing. Really," Sumia said softly, a smile on her face even as she blushed from the praise. "I just have a way with animals, I guess."

"I should say so!" Chrom said.

Lissa snickered as she moved forward to help Sumia. "She definitely does," she said lowly, bursting into giggles when the tactician beside her let out a bark of laughter.

As the two girls tended to the wounded pegasus, the rest of the Shepherds had finished bringing the deceased Ylissean soldiers together. Chrom had gone over each one, seemingly etching their faces to memory as he closed their eyes and placed their hands together over their chests.

Robin watched him with sad eyes. It was a hard reality to face as a leader. How were you supposed to console a man such as Chrom, who – judging by his demeanor – took every death as a personal failure? How was he supposed to behave? These sorts of things were foreign to a man with no memory. Granted, he may have experienced grief at some point in time during whatever life he'd had before, but he had nothing to fall back on. All he could be – all he knew how to be – was the anchor that kept Chrom rooted to the ground.

"I know you feel like you failed them…" he murmured. "But you didn't. They did their duty, just as we're doing ours. That's all we can do to honor their sacrifice."

Chrom nodded mutely, and Robin took that as the signal. He and Miriel lit the funeral pyre with basic fire spells, the old wood catching fire quickly as it began to consume the bodies of the fallen. The Shepherds watched on for a few minutes, some like Frederick with their heads bowed in prayer, others simply watching with distant looks on their faces.

As much as he'd have wanted to allow them all to reflect, Robin knew that time was of the essence and made the call to prepare to move out.

While the rest of the Shepherds set about packing what supplies they could and getting their equipment and supplies in order, Robin noticed Lissa sitting on a nearby tree stump, chewing on some dried jerky from her rations and washing it down with water from a flask.

_'It's to be expected, though,'_ Robin mused._ 'The healing arts, while usually just as taxing as combat magic, can drain a person's mana much faster if constant application was needed to treat serious injuries. I'm also pretty sure that Lissa's still new to all this, so she probably hasn't had much opportunity to really build up her mana reserves.'_

Robin frowned, wondering where that piece of information had come from, but filed that away for some other time. It was still useful to know.

The pegasus looked to be in much better shape than earlier, Sumia having not left the creature's side. It seemed they'd already formed a bit of a connection, which Robin took to be a good sign. Perhaps he might be able to make use of Sumia as a pegasus knight sooner than expected, something which he admitted to himself would be a welcome addition to his strategies.

Chrom, on the other hand… Robin decided he'd stick to the man for the time being. He might be showing a strong front, but the tactician could tell the prince was still bothered by the loss of life. He'd have to talk to him sometime soon, and make him see that it actually _wasn't_ his fault. For now, though… all Robin could do was keep an eye out for him.

"Will the pegasus be fit to travel, Sumia?" Chrom asked as he approached. _'Speak of the devil…'_

"Not just yet. You all should go on ahead, Captain," Sumia said as she continued to tend to the pegasus. "Once she's fit for travel, we'll catch up to you. We can make up ground easier since she can fly, so we probably won't lose too much time."

Chrom frowned. "I'm sure we can make time to wait for you," he offered. Robin raised an eyebrow, his expression clearly asking what logic the prince had used to come to that conclusion.

Sumia ducked her head, hiding her burning cheeks. "Thank you, Captain," she said. "But I'm a pegasus knight-in-training, and a Shepherd. I can manage on my own." She looked up at Chrom, the prince faintly surprised to note the steel in her gaze. "Every moment is precious when all of Ylisse is in danger."

Robin put a hand on Chrom's shoulder. "She's right, you know," he said. "We really don't have much time; we've already used up what little we had to spare in combat and building up the funeral pyre for the fallen soldiers."

"… I know," the prince replied reluctantly. Deep down, Robin could understand why the man was conflicted: he'd just lost an entire platoon of soldiers, and the lives lost were clearly weighing on him. With Risen prowling the lands, and both Ferox and Ylisstol days away, he didn't want to risk leaving Sumia out here on her own. However… at the same time, Chrom could understand and respect Sumia's wishes just as much as he understood that he had his own duty to fulfil.

Meeting Sumia's eyes, Chrom nodded. "Right, then… Be safe, Sumia. I'll see you soon."

This time, she rose to her feet and saluted smartly. "As you command, sir," she said, and suddenly to Robin she looked every bit the pegasus knight she was training herself to be…

… Until she smiled a smile that made her look like she'd been given presents early.

Robin sighed. _'I swear to Naga, the only thing I've seen from these two is them dancing around their obvious mutual attraction… then again, since I can't remember anything, maybe I should be paying more attention.'_

As he turned to head back to the Shepherds, Robin could have sworn he saw the pegasus shrug helplessly when it locked eyes with him.

* * *

Location: The Longfort

Chrom's worries ended up being unfounded, happily enough, as the Shepherds had managed to reach the base of the mountainous region that separated Regna Ferox and Ylisse within another two days and without any other disturbances or Risen attacks. In spite of the delays, Robin found that they were still making good time, which was good because they'd be forced to slow their travel as the road began to narrow and slope upwards.

The air cooled dramatically the further along the road the Shepherds traveled, making Robin very glad that he'd kept his coat on as the others dug out thick cloaks from their traveling packs and wrapped them around their shoulders. Vaike had been insistent that he didn't need his, but the moment snow began to fall and a mountain breeze began to blow was the moment that Chrom and Robin had forced the man into his cloak, unwilling to even entertain the risk of the man suffering from frostbite just to satisfy his ego.

Even with the cloaks, though, it was clear to see that the Shepherds were still struggling with weather they were unaccustomed to.

"Brrr! F-F-Frebberick!" Lissa stammered out as she shivered within the confines of her cloak. "I'm f-f-freebing!"

The great knight chuckled, urging his steed to trot alongside Lissa. "Stand beside my horse, milady," he said, remaining unflappable as always. "She'll shelter you from the wind."

Frederick's horse whinnied, almost as if it was agreeing with its rider's words.

Robin was about to make a quip, but his words died in his throat as an enormous structure came into view, dwarfing anything he'd seen save perhaps for the Exalt's Palace at Ylisstol.

"Wow…" he breathed as he gazed up at the giant fortress that greeted the Shepherds. The massive stone walls extended both ways along the snow-capped mountain region, stretching as far as the eye could see and beyond that as they disappeared into the mountain ranges that marked the Ylisse-Ferox border.

Turning to Chrom, he found the prince staring up at the fortress' massive iron gate with a distant expression.

"So this is the fortress you mentioned to me before?" he asked, snapping the other man from his thoughts.

Chrom nodded. "Yes, the Longfort," he replied, a puff of mist escaping his lips with every spoken word. "It's a border fortress that stretches along the entirety of Regna Ferox's southern border. It's a reminder of a time when relations between us were less than pleasant. Now it serves as a checkpoint for entry, although the Feroxi still maintain a full complement of soldiers to keep up appearances."

Robin turned back to the fortress. "Appearances or otherwise, I'd hate to have to try and lay siege to a place like this in a time of war…" he murmured, more to himself than the others. Aside from the fortification itself, the terrain made the Longfort a natural stronghold that was difficult to assault and easy to defend.

The tactician glanced at Chrom out of the corner of his eye. "Hopefully they'll let us pass without much fuss."

"As long as I let them know who I am, they should let us in without much trouble," Chrom replied.

Frederick brought his steed towards the pair. "The khans of Regna Ferox have grown quite wary of foreigners as of late," he said as he joined the discussion. "Still, one shouldn't mistake the lack of hospitality for open hostility, milord. This simply calls for a bit of diplomacy and patience."

"I'll admit negotiation is hardly my strong suit," the prince replied, frowning. "However, for Ylisse and for Emm I'll do my best to stay patient and calm. As the Exalt's emissaries, our actions will reflect on her and on Ylisse as a whole, so we should all try to be on our best behavior."

The group continued to make its way forward, Chrom and Robin in the lead as they approached the clearing before the huge gate.

Frederick's eyes narrowed as he watched for movement from the fort. "Trouble in the wind, milord," he said lowly. "The Feroxi Guard are mobilizing."

"What?! Why?!" Chrom asked, clearly startled by the great knight's statement.

Indeed, just as the great knight had said, there was plenty of activity on the fortress walls and within the gate. Robin could see soldiers clad in mixed and matched leather and steel armor rushing to and fro. Swordsmen as well as lance-wielding light and heavy infantry alike all readied themselves, while archers took position on the battlements, bows and arrows poised and aimed at the Shepherds. Some of the infantry broke off from their compatriots and joined the archers, hefting lighter spears geared for throwing at distant targets.

_'This could be trouble…'_ Robin thought to himself as he began thinking of possible tactics and strategies that might get them out of this mess.

"Who can say? But they certainly look ready to fly at a moment's notice," Frederick replied. "We'd best prepare for combat, just in case. Loathe as I still am to trust him, Robin may offer us some valuable insight…"

Robin rolled his eyes and pretended to ignore Frederick's words. _'Sweet Naga, really…?'_

Chrom frowned. "Well, he _is_ our tactician, after all," he said, before turning to Robin. "So, do you have anything in mind, Robin? Any suggestions would be most welcome."

Before Robin could say anything, a strong voice rang out from the top of the fortress wall.

"Halt! Who goes there?!"

_'You cannot deny that those are some serious lungs,'_ Robin thought as the source of the yelling appeared on the battlements alongside the archers. Said source was a woman in heavy platemail armor, with plain, harsh features and short straw-colored hair that were no doubt weathered by the equally hard weather and the combat-centered culture of Regna Ferox. Her armor was polished to a dull sheen, but Robin could see that it was also quite worn and aged, undoubtedly having seen plenty of use and abuse in its time.

Chrom put on his best business face and stepped forward, keeping his composure even as the archers trained their bows on him.

"In the name of House Ylisse, I seek an audience with the khans!" he called out.

"Not another step, my bold lad!" the reply came, surprising Chrom and stopping him in his tracks. "I've lancers and archers at the ready!"

_'Way to point out the obvious.'_

"Hold milady!" Frederick called out. "We are not your enemy! Exalt Emmeryn sent us to discuss matters of mutual interest!"

The knight scoffed. "Hah! _My_ only interest is keeping you out of Regna Ferox, brigand!"

Frederick bristled, his face growing red with anger. "B-brigand?!" he ground out. "Now see here–!"

"You think you're the first 'Ylisseans' to try and cross our border?" she spat. "I have the authority to fell imposters such as you where they stand!"

The normally unflappable great knight had just about had it at this point. "How _dare_ you speak to milord in such a manner?!" he exploded, losing all sense of composure for the first time since Robin had met the man. "You are in the presence of Prince Chrom, the Exalt's own blood! He is _royalty_!"

"Ha! Indeed, and I'm the Queen of Valm!" the knight replied. "You _do_ realize impersonating royalty is a capital offense, yes?"

Chrom had no response to her words. He was rooted to the ground he stood upon, almost in shock at how callously his claims – _legitimate_ claims – were being tossed aside.

The knight suddenly hummed to herself in thought. "Mmm… though, perhaps there may be a way to test your claims," she said, snapping Chrom from his stupor. Smirking, she accepted a spear from one of her soldiers. "We'll settle this the Feroxi way! You claim to be the prince of Ylisse? Then prove it on the battlefield!"

Chrom grimaced. "Rrgh… Emmeryn won't like this…" he murmured. "Is there really no other way…?"

He drew himself up to his full height and decided he had to try one final time. "Please, good lady!" he called out once more. "If you'd just listen–!"

The knight cut him off with a swipe of her spear. "I have heard quite enough!" she said. "Attack!"

Before anyone could realize what was happening, four spears were suddenly in mid-flight, aimed right for the Ylissean prince. Robin hadn't even needed to shout orders; everything happened far too quickly for him to have done so. He surged forward with Frederick, the both of them trying to find a way to shield Chrom from harm even as the man twisted his body in a feeble attempt to protect himself using his shoulder guard.

Robin knew that their efforts were futile; he was quite sure Frederick knew that as well, but it wasn't the sort of knowledge that would stop either of them from trying to save Chrom. There was no conceivable way they could reach Chrom and prevent his death. Even shielding him with their bodies wouldn't be enough; the javelins would punch right through and spear through the prince anyway.

A shadow suddenly passed overhead, shielding Robin from the sun for a brief moment and making him pause in his mad dash to save Chrom. He looked up just in time to see a blur of white – a pegasus, he quickly realized – streak through the air at full speed, aimed right for Chrom. Its rider – a familiar brunette in bronze riding armor – reached a hand out and took hold of Chrom's arm, hoisting the prince onto the saddle behind her with jarring force that Robin was sure would have wrenched a normal man's arm out of its socket.

_'Sumia!'_

The javelins slammed into the snow-covered field where Chrom had been standing, missing the prince entirely as the pegasus rose to the sky with the prince firmly saddled behind its handler.

* * *

Chrom opened his eyes, wondering how in god's name he hadn't been skewered yet… and why he was now riding a pegasus that was several dozen feet up in the air. However, that all paled in comparison to the surprise he felt when he realized just who was holding the reins of the winged beast.

"Sumia…?" he breathed out, unable to believe his eyes. Sitting in front of him, hair fluttering in the wind as one hand held onto the pegasus' reins and another hefted a slim iron lance, was Sumia.

"Better hold tight, Captain," the brunette replied as she deftly steered the pegasus through the skies with a practiced ease. "Things could get a little bumpy."

Chrom blinked, his mouth working to try and get words out as his mind still struggled to process his situation.

"Uh… right…" he finally mustered.

Sumia glanced at him over her shoulder and gave him a reassuring – and charming, he admitted to himself – smile. "Don't worry," she said. "You'll be fine."

Chrom watched Sumia as if seeing her for the first time. She was… different. Gone was the clumsy, uncertain girl that he'd known on the ground, to be replaced by a calm and confident pegasus knight. Now that she was finally in her element, she seemed to be a completely different person. She'd become the knight that both he and Wing Commander Phila had always believed she could be.

He was jolted by his thoughts, however, when movement from the fortress wall caught his eye. Looking in the Longfort's direction, he found archers on the battlements taking aim at them, making his blood run cold. However, before they could so much as loose an arrow in their direction, arrows and spells from the ground flew in, preventing the Feroxi guards from attacking and forcing them to dive for cover.

"Sumia, take us down!" he called out, shouting his words so they could be heard over the rushing wind. Robin had given them an opportunity to get to safety, and it was best not to waste it.

"Right!" came the reply from Sumia. She urged her steed into a gentle dive as they moved out of range of the Feroxi archers, angling their descent towards where the rest of the Shepherds had gathered before the fort's main gate.

* * *

Robin would have cheered Sumia's timely arrival, but the sight of the archers on the fortress wall raising their bows skyward and aiming at the pegasus knight spurred him into action.

"Miriel, Virion! On the archers! Give Chrom and Sumia some cover, but try not to kill if you can help it!" the tactician called out as he drew his tome from his coat. "The rest of you, keep Lissa safe and make sure to stay out of range until we can clear the wall!"

Runes quickly flared to life around Robin and Miriel as the two began preparing spells, pages flipping wildly as mana crackled and sparked from their magically-charged tomes. Virion stepped ahead of the tactician and mage, pulling three arrows and letting them fly in quick succession. The Feroxi archers were quick to duck Virion's attack before shifting their aim towards the trio on the ground and returning fire.

_'Good, we've managed to get their attention…'_ Robin thought, watching Chrom and Sumia from the corner of his eye as they began their descent towards a lower altitude. He hissed as an arrow grazed his left arm, tearing through his sleeve and the flesh beneath it, but he kept his nerve and focused on the task at hand.

Lightning crackling within his palm, Robin raised his hand and threw his Elthunder spell out at the archers perched on the battlements of the Longfort. Miriel's own fire spells flew out to join his assault, the lightning bolts and fireballs blowing chunks of stone from the fort as they slammed into the battlements with explosive force. A few of the Feroxi were caught in the blast, sending them flying through the air, but the rest were still able to scramble away and duck for cover.

"Alright, good work, you two. That should buy us some time to regroup," Robin said, keeping a careful watch on the wall as Sumia brought her pegasus to ground level where it made a surprisingly gentle landing. Chrom nodded his thanks and gripped Sumia's shoulder before sliding off. He landed a little unsteadily, but waved away any concerns from Frederick as he found his feet and straightened up.

"I'm so relieved that I made it on time, Captain," Sumia said, smiling as she caressed her pegasus' neck.

Chrom broke out in a grin. "That goes double for me," he replied, before a frown suddenly creased his brows as he took a closer look at Sumia's mount. "And this… wait, is this the same ornery pegasus we met on the road?!"

Sumia grinned as she gave the animal a scratch on the ear, something which it clearly enjoyed as it raised its head to allow its rider easy reach.

"Oh, she's a sweetheart, isn't she?" she asked, prompting Chrom to give her a look of disbelief. Upon seeing the look, she chuckled nervously and added, "… Once you get to know her, that is…"

Chrom could only chuckle at that. "I see. Well, many thanks to you both, then."

The pegasus whinnied happily, almost as if it were delighted to hear Chrom's words.

Lissa giggled. "Aw, I think it's blushing!" she cooed, reaching out to pat the pegasus on the snout.

"And I think we had best focus on the situation at hand!" Frederick snapped. Undoubtedly the great knight was still on edge after the blatant disrespect Chrom had been shown earlier.

Robin narrowed his eyes. "Shepherds, on your toes. Here they come…!" he said lowly, watching as the Feroxi guards began to funnel out from the stairwells behind the main gate. Curiously, he noted that the Feroxi guard captain was not amongst their number… but all their archers were filing out and rushing down the left side, while most of the melee fighters were on the other side.

_'That's tactical suicide…'_ Robin thought incredulously.

"Alright, then the Feroxi way it is!" Chrom said, drawing Falchion from its sheath and raising it high.

Robin nodded, his mind already analysing the battlefield. "Frederick, Sully, and Stahl, take the left flank," he called out. "Use your mobility to keep the enemy tied down, particularly the archers. Chrom, Vaike, you're on the right side. Virion and Miriel will back you up. Lissa, stay with the rear line. Sumia, stick with me. I've got a plan in mind, but we should wait until their archers aren't a threat to us."

As most of the Shepherds moved to obey his orders, Robin couldn't help but notice that Chrom's brows had furrowed in thought.

"Chrom? Is something wrong?"

The prince shook his head. "I don't know why… but I feel like I'm being watched," he said.

Robin frowned, but before either man could say anything, a voice called out to them. "Um, sir?"

Both Chrom and Robin straightened up, eyes wide. "Sir! Right here, sir!" the voice called out again.

"Who's there?! Show yourself!" the prince shouted as he looked about wildly, gripping Falchion tightly. Behind him, Robin held both sword and tome at the ready, prepared to defend his friend and employer.

A shape near them suddenly resolved itself into a large, heavily-armored man that had a hand raised. "I'm standing in plain sight, sir. Right he–"

"BWAAAAAH!" both Robin and Chrom yelped in surprise, leaping away from the figure and nearly drawing their weapons before realizing the newcomer meant no harm… and – in Chrom's case – that the man was actually one of his Shepherds.

"Oh… oh! I-is that you, Kellam? When did you arrive?" Chrom asked, recognition dawning on his features as he tried to calm his rapid heartbeat.

Kellam frowned in confusion. "The same time as the rest of you. I've been with you the whole time," he replied, his expression growing more anxious as Chrom gave him a perplexed look. "Er… I _am_ still a Shepherd, right? It's quite the honor to serve under your direct command, after all. I'd hate to lose my place. Sometimes I–"

"Of course you are, Kellam. Don't think you aren't," Chrom interrupted rather hastily, putting on as reassuring a smile as he could manage. "Forgive me. It's just that sometimes you're so quiet that I completely–"

Kellam chuckled, waving off Chrom's apology. "It's quite alright, sir. Quite alright. I've been told I'm easy to miss."

Chrom sighed. "Well… it's a good thing the Feroxi didn't find you."

The large knight's shoulders sagged. "I've been calling to you and waving for several minutes…" he said dejectedly. "I don't think they've so much as glanced this way."

Robin had to raise an eyebrow at that. "You almost sound disappointed," the tactician remarked.

Kellam shrugged. "Well, I just…" he trailed off, before he shook his head and straightened up. "I'm just glad you finally saw me! Just try to keep an eye out for me from now on?"

Chrom chuckled. "I'll be sure to do my best, Kellam. I'm always glad to have you with us. Don't think you aren't a welcome addition."

Kellam smiled at that, then turned to Robin. "So, your orders, Robin? I'll do whatever you need me to."

"Take Chrom's place on the right," Robin said, patting the larger man on his plated shoulder. "Your heavy armor will let you be a good focal point for the rest of them to fight around." Looking around, he clapped his hands. "Alright, don't forget that the Feroxi are technically our allies! I don't want any unnecessary bloodshed if we can avoid it! Now let's get a move on, people!"

Frederick gave Robin a grave nod and spurred his steed into action, again taking Stahl and Sully with him as per what was quickly becoming a standard tactic of Robin's.

Chrom glanced at his tactician. "Whatever this plan of yours is, I hope it isn't anything too stupid," he said, watching as Vaike and Kellam rushed towards the enemies approaching from the right, Virion and Miriel taking position behind them.

_'That makes two of us…'_ he thought as he gazed up at the fortress wall, almost expecting more archers to pop up and start showering them with arrows

Thankfully, no more archers appeared on the battlements, which meant that all of them had been deployed to ground level on the left side. For what reason, Robin couldn't even begin to fathom, because there was absolutely no real tactical incentive to doing such a thing. It just made no sense.

"Robin?" Sumia ventured, pulling Robin from his thoughts. "Is anything the matter?"

The tactician shook his head. "Sorry, I was just overthinking things," he replied. "Don't worry about it, Sumia."

Chrom frowned as he folded his arms over his chest. "I'm curious why you had Kellam switch out with me, Robin," he said. "I'm not the type to stay in the backlines while people do the fighting for me."

"I know you are, Chrom, but trust me on this," Robin replied. "I intend for the three of us to go straight for our friendly Feroxi guard captain. If we can force her to stand down quickly, then we can bring this battle to an end before either side incurs too many casualties."

Knowing Chrom would object, Robin raised a hand to forestall any comments. "Look, I also know you probably don't like being away from the main fight, but think about it, Chrom," he added. "If we spill Feroxi blood here, we'll not be helping our cause considering we want to petition the khans for aid. It will make for a very poor bargaining chip when we have to get down to the business end of things."

The prince sighed, knowing his tactician was right. He didn't exactly like it, but he had to see the wisdom in his tactician's plan.

"… Alright," he relented. "How do we do this?"

Robin grinned at that. "That's where you come in," he said, addressing Sumia. "You'll be ferrying us up there one at a time. I'll go in first – I'm more expendable than Chrom is, after all – then you come back down to bring him up afterwards. Between the three of us, we should be able to handle whatever enemies are still up there."

Chrom nodded in understanding. "You seem to have thought this through."

"It's my job, Chrom," Robin deadpanned. "I'd assume that's what you'll be paying me to do." He suddenly paused as a thought came to him. "… You _are_ going to be paying me, right?"

The prince punched the white-haired man on the shoulder. "Just get going, will you?" he said, grinning good-naturedly.

A grinning Robin swung over onto the saddle behind Sumia and threw his leader a sloppy salute. "Yes, sir!" he said, his tone more indulgent than anything else. "Take us up, Sumia. Frederick should have their archers occupied by now."

The pegasus knight nodded. "Just hold on, the wind could make this trip a little bumpy," she said as she eased her pegasus into flight. Robin was instantly on the lookout as they rose into the air, much as he wanted to be distracted by the absolutely wondrous sensation of _flying_.

_'Keep your head in the game, you dolt. I'm sure you'll be able to ask for a ride at some point in the future.'_

Robin watched the battle unfold from his vantage point, noting that neither group of Shepherds seemed to have made any semblance of progress towards the stairwells on either side of the gate. He surmised that as formidable as the Feroxi combatants were, the main reason for the lack of progress would probably still have to be his order to avoid causing any deaths if possible.

_'Which is all well and good… the last thing we need is us having an entire outpost's worth of Feroxi blood on our hands.'_

As Sumia took the pegasus in a gentle arc over the fort's battlements, Robin could see the Feroxi captain and a single mercenary standing alone in front of the gate keep, seemingly unaware of what was approaching from above. He tapped Sumia on the shoulder and pointed in their direction.

"Just do a fly by. I'll jump off the moment you break to the side."

Sumia turned halfway to give Robin an incredulous look. "I _really_ hope you know what you're doing," she said, but nonetheless coaxed the pegasus into a dive towards the two Feroxi.

_'I hope I know what I'm doing, too. Believe me.'_

Robin pulled out his tome and began charging a spell as they swooped in. The Feroxi captain and the mercenary both looked up, surprised expressions crossing their faces as they noticed the pegasus streaking in right towards them. They both raised their weapons, letting Robin know that they fully expected the oncoming pegasus knight to charge directly at them.

Unfortunately for them, that course of action was the furthest thing from what Robin had in mind. Sumia pulled to the right at the last moment, barely keeping out of reach of the Feroxi guards' spear and sword. Robin swung himself over towards the left side and dove off the pegasus as it streaked past the two Feroxi, tackling the mercenary to the ground and sending the other man's sword sliding across the floor.

The two struggled and wrestled on the ground, Robin losing his tome in the commotion. The mercenary flipped the smaller tactician over and mounted him before delivering a solid cross across Robin's cheek. Stars exploded across Robin's vision, but the tactician kept his focus and slapped a follow-up punch away. The mercenary yelped in pain as his fist collided with the cold stone floor, giving Robin the opportunity he needed. He slammed a palm against the mercenary's neck and discharged a small amount of lightning magic into the other man.

The mercenary collapsed in a nerveless heap on top of Robin, clearly paralyzed by Robin's lightning magic. The tactician shoved the prone man off and untangled his legs from the other man's before scrambling to his feet, hand already reaching for his sword.

The Feroxi captain stood still, almost appraising Robin's foolhardiness, before she set her feet and raised her steel lance and kite shield. However, she was content to simply wait for Robin to come to her, which meant she knew he'd lost his tome in the earlier scuffle.

Robin cautiously rose to a full standing position and discretely examined his surroundings for his tome, spotting the discarded book sitting a short distance away… but much closer to the Feroxi captain than to himself. Clearly she'd moved herself in that direction deliberately to prevent him from retrieving it.

_'Looks like I'll need to find a way to lure her away from it…'_ he thought, trying not to be distracted by the sounds of fighting still drifting up from the bottom of the fortress wall.

"You fight well, boy," the Feroxi captain said. "Let our battle sound out the truth of your words!"

Robin wordlessly raised his sword up and to the side in a two-handed grip and charged forward. The intent was clear: retrieve his tome, and take the advantage from long-range combat. He was sure the Feroxi captain knew it, as well.

The captain hunkered down behind her kite shield and thrust out with her lance to ward off Robin's advance. The tactician, however, twisted his body and brought his sword up and around, catching the lance just behind its head and sweeping it aside before continuing the motion into a spin that allowed him to continue his advance. Undeterred and aware of what Robin was trying to do, the captain brought her shield aside so she could swing her lance at him in a wide sweeping arc.

Robin dove to the side, the lance passing just over him as he rolled on his shoulder and rose to his feet in a single smooth motion. His instincts screaming at him, Robin brought his sword up into a guard position before he could really think about it, a move which may have saved his life as his blade met the Feroxi captain's oncoming lance thrust and pushed it aside. The lance barely missed a direct hit on his torso, but still managed to painfully nick his left arm ever so lightly.

He stumbled back from the glancing blow and dropped to a knee. However, before the heavily armored knight could press her advantage, a yelled war cry pierced through the air. Both combatants turned to see Chrom drop down from the Sumia's hovering pegasus and charge forward into the fray, blade already drawn.

The Feroxi captain turned her full attention to the prince and met his sword swing with her shield, allowing Robin a brief moment to catch his breath. Fortunately, his movements meant that his tome now laid only a few paces away, which would allow him to rejoin the battle quickly if he was still needed.

Looking at the fight, the Feroxi captain was holding her own against Chrom and Sumia, using her shield to take the brunt of the prince's more powerful attacks while she was fine to allow the lighter blows from Sumia's slim lance to glance harmlessly off her thick steel armor before she forced the pair back with wide swipes of her lance.

The deadly dance continued for a time, until finally a lucky swing from the Feroxi captain's steel lance caught Sumia before she could fully retreat out of range. The lance's shaft hit the pegasus knight across her flank, sending her flying from her pegasus and landing on the ground in a heap, where she coughed and wheezed as she tried to recover the air that had been knocked from her by the jarring blow.

"Sumia!" he heard Chrom cry out, before the prince refocused on the battle and began to attack even more ferociously than before. However, his flaring emotions left him more and more careless, and more prone to leaving openings as he continued his relentless attack.

Robin's eyes widened when Chrom was suddenly caught off-guard in the middle of his onslaught by the Feroxi captain, who smashed her shield into the prince's torso and sent him sprawling to the ground several yards away. The prince shook his head as he slowly rose up, not wholly aware that the Feroxi captain was rushing up towards him to finish him off.

_'Damn it, no!'_

Urgency fuelling his body, Robin rose to his feet and lunged for his tome, scooping it up in one hand and cracking it open. The pages flipped as they answered his will, Robin not even thinking of what spell to cast and just giving himself over to his instincts. A green light glowed in the palm of his hand as he raised it, runes and magic circles flaring to life as he let his spell fly loose.

"Wind!"

The magic-infused gale of wind erupted from Robin's palm and quickly washed over the pair, sweeping the heavily-armored knight off her feet as she charged the downed Chrom and sending her tumbling to the ground in a sprawled heap. She tried to scramble to their feet, but the tactician of the Shepherds was faster, crossing the distance in a matter of seconds and managing to get a foot on the Feroxi guard's spear before levelling his sword at her neck.

"It's over," Robin said, breathing heavily from the exertion.

He heard and felt Chrom get back up behind him, before the prince levelled his own weapon at the guard captain's neck.

Finally getting a good glimpse of the weapon at her neck, the guard captain paled.

"Then your claims were… true…" she whispered. "You truly _are_ Prince Chrom…"

The prince nodded, keeping his blade steady. "Indeed. Now, will you cease your hostilities? I don't wish any blood to be spilt on this day, in spite of your actions."

* * *

The battle had ended shortly thereafter, the Feroxi guard captain – whose name was Raimi, Robin had learned – having ordered all her troops to stand down and cease all hostile actions.

Robin had been pleased to see that there were no casualties on either side, and that the Shepherds had more or less made it through unscathed. He was still kicking himself over the fact that Sumia had been injured thanks to his strategy, but Lissa had assured him that the pegasus knight only had some bruised ribs that would heal quickly after a few days.

_'Still… I should at least check up on her as soon as possible…'_

He shelved his thoughts as Raimia walked up to Chrom – who had been standing a short distance away with Lissa and Sumia – and gave a short bow.

"Once again, a thousand apologies, Prince Chrom. I truly took you for brigand impostors," Raimi said respectfully. "However, no frauds could have ever waged a battle as you just have! I will send word of your arrival to the capital and escort you there personally as way of apology once preparations have been made to depart."

"Thank you. That would be most appreciated," Chrom replied. Raimi nodded before she turned to take her leave, heading back for the gate keep.

Robin watched the Feroxi guard captain leave, more than a little astonished at the difference compared to the person that had greeted their arrival earlier.

"Amazing," he murmured. "Her whole demeanor changed once we were able to prove who we are."

"I'm not wholly surprised," came Frederick's voice, prompting Robin to turn and face the great knight as the larger man approached him. "In Ferox, strength speaks louder than words." The Shepherds' normally stern second-in-command suddenly looked shamefaced. "I should have known better than to overestimate the value of diplomacy here…"

Robin grimaced internally. He could tell that the near misses that had nearly gotten Chrom killed were weighing heavily on the other man's mind.

"None of us could have known any better, Frederick," he said, choosing his words carefully as he placed a hand on the larger man's shoulder plate. "You were looking out for Chrom and for Ylisse, so it's understandable you would try to emphasize diplomacy above all else. We just have to learn from our experiences and mistakes."

Frederick regarded Robin steadily for a moment before nodding. "… You make a point there," he conceded. "Also…"

Robin watched as Frederick hesitated. He waited patiently for the other man, who clearly seemed to be struggling with something.

After a while, the great knight finally pressed on, but in a much lower voice.

"… I would also thank you for saving the life of milord, Sir Robin," Frederick said, looking rather crestfallen. "Three times now have you placed yourself in harm's way for his sake, and each time you've nearly died for it. My behaviour… may have been less than fair to you."

To say Robin was shocked would be an understatement. _'I swear, I must be dreaming. Frederick's apologizing to me?'_

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Frederick," he replied. "As you've said before, you were doing your duty. I wouldn't have trusted me, either, if I was in your place."

Frederick sighed. "Yet–"

"No, Frederick," Robin interjected. "I know it wasn't anything personal. You had every right to be suspicious and wary of someone who had claimed to have absolutely no memories whatsoever – regardless of whether he spoke the truth or not."

_'It _did _begin to grate on my nerves after the first couple of days, I'm not going to lie… but there's no need for you to know _that_ right now.'_

He ran a hand through his white hair. "I'm not asking you to be friends with me straight away. I never have, and I never will. I just want you to be able to give me the chance to earn your trust as a tactician. We both want the same thing: to help Chrom and keep him safe in spite of himself. Why can't we help each other do just that?"

After several moments of thought, Frederick gave a slow nod. "Yes… I don't see why we can't do that."

Robin chuckled dryly. "That's a relief to hear," he said, watching as Chrom hovered over Sumia like a concerned parent.

_'Or lover…'_ Robin thought, smirking inwardly at the thought. _'They're both so obvious and oblivious about how they act that it's almost painful to watch.'_

He turned to Frederick once more. "They're worth protecting, Frederick, and I intend to do all I can to ensure their safety."

The great knight didn't respond for a long moment, but when he did it was short and simple. "I understand," he said, giving the tactician a firm, respectful nod before leaving.

When Frederick was out of earshot, Robin sighed.

_'That was probably one of the hardest conversations I can remember having…' _He smiled wryly to himself. _'Not that I can remember much.'_

"Alright! All done!" Robin heard Lissa say, making him refocus his attention back on the royal siblings.

The Ylissean princess rose from Sumia's side, patting her dress clean before she stretched her arms up over her head. She let out a small, distinctly un-princess-like noise of pleasure as she reached up as high as she could go to work out the kinks in her shoulders and back.

"Thanks, Lissa," Sumia said as she gingerly refastened the lower straps on her breastplate.

Lissa grinned cheerily at her friend, before turning to her brother. "So, now that that's done, can we get going yet, Chrom?"

The prince blinked out of his stupor, his cheeks reddening slightly as he realized he'd been caught staring at Sumia.

"Y-yes, let's get inside," he said. "I-it certainly isn't getting any warmer out here."

Robin grinned as the flustered prince moved to Sumia's side, gently helping the pegasus knight to her feet.

_'Oh, Chrom… even after a battle where you had two near-death experiences, her well-being's still the first thing on your mind…'_

The tactician couldn't help but chuckle to himself as he followed the trio in.

What a job this was turning out to be.

* * *

Location: Arena Ferox

Lucina backpedalled rapidly, her sword moving like lightning as it deflected attacks coming in from her opponent's furious offense. The myrmidon she was fighting against pressed his attack, unwilling to give the masked swordswoman even an inch of breathing room as they duelled in the center of a huge arena.

There was only a very small audience right now, but that made the match no less important or tense as the pair of swordsmen continued to exchange blows and sword strokes as they had been for nearly half an hour now.

Unwilling to allow her opponent to retain the advantage, Lucina planted her left foot and suddenly stood her ground. Her sword came up in a particularly vicious parry that deflected the myrmidon's single-edged blade – its design identifying it as a sword from the nation of Chon'sin, she absently noted – but allowed him to carry his momentum forward into her.

When they were just within arm's reach of each other, the myrmidon took in a sharp breath as his dark eyes suddenly widened in shock and – dare Lucina say it – uncharacteristic fear. Lucina knew what it was that had shocked her opponent. He'd subconsciously noticed something about her, and Lucina knew _exactly_ why that knowledge had made him suddenly freeze up mid-lunge.

It was the reason she'd allowed him that close to begin with. If it were any other situation and against any other adversary, they would never make it into her inner circle of defense, but this… this was an exception she could make.

_'I'm sorry for doing this to you… but I have something I must do!'_

Lucina's lithe form twisted around her frozen opponent, the myrmidon only remembering where he was when it was already too late and Lucina had taken a decisive advantage. The myrmidon attempted to turn and raise his blade, but the masked swordswoman had already struck a decisive blow with the flat of her blade.

The myrmidon fell forward, his blade falling from his nerveless fingers and clattering across the arena floor.

Lucina huffed and let out a calming breath before she flicked her sword to the side.

She stood tall over her downed opponent, who lay flat on his stomach a short distance away from her. The myrmidon was uninjured – physically, at least – though that didn't stop a pair of attendants from coming in and tending to his unconscious form. Lucina hadn't hit him hard enough to do any more than knock him out, so she was sure he'd be fine when he awoke. However… she wasn't quite so sure she'd be able to say the same about the other man's pride as a swordsman once the defeat sank in.

"Yes… yes! Very good!" a large, dark-skinned man said as he rose from his seat in a special box. "That was some show, young lad! Your swordsmanship is exemplary!"

Lucina turned to the box and raised her blade in a salute before sheathing it and offering the man a bow. She seemed the very image of calm and surety on the outside, but hearing that man's voice again was like a knife cutting into her.

_'No, it isn't…'_

"I am humbled by your words, Sire," she said, trying to keep her emotions in check as the large man descended from his box and entered the arena pit.

'_Don't talk any more… please…'_

The large man came to a stop before her, putting his hands on his hips. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were the Hero-King himself, what with the way you fought! Would you like to become my champion and represent the West-Khan in the upcoming tournament?"

Lucina straightened up, but kept herself from meeting the West-Khan's one good eye. "It… it would be an honor to fight on your behalf, Sire…"

_'No… I'm no hero… I'm a complete failure… I'm nothing!'_

The Khan grinned, though Lucina didn't see much of it, distracted as she was by her own conflicted thoughts.

"Well, that's fantastic!" he said, grinning widely. "With skills like yours, it looks like I'm going to remain in charge for a while to come yet!"

_'Please, just stop talking…!'_

The Khan motioned for another pair of attendants to come and help take the unconscious myrmidon to the infirmary before he exited through a side exit, his hearty laugh booming from it.

Lucina felt ill as she took her own exit, heading back for the quarters the Khan had been generous enough to provide her.

She took one shaky step after another as she navigated the hallways of the large arena, unable to focus her thoughts. The Khan's laughter was everything _but_ hearty to her. It almost felt like she was being mocked for her previous failures, for her own weakness…

It wasn't long before another laugh replaced the Khan's, this one seemingly dredging itself up from the deepest, darkest corners of her mind. Lucina unconsciously began to walk faster, as if trying to outrun the laugh that echoed in her mind, before eventually breaking out into a panicked sprint. She heard the voice whispering after her as she ran… calling her weak… pathetic…

_'No, don't fall apart here… she's not here… don't let your memories get to you…'_

After what seemed like an eternity of running, Lucina finally made it to her quarters. She weakly opened the door and slipped in, hurriedly bolting the door shut behind her. She swallowed thickly, trying to bring her emotions back under control as she leaned against the door and slid to the ground. She took in deep gulps of air, suddenly feeling incredibly spent from the prolonged duel and her flight back to her quarters.

Lucina thought she'd been prepared to see yet another familiar face… but the memories were still too fresh, too raw.

_It's because you're weak, little girl…_

Lucina's eyes widened in fear behind her mask as the words filtered into her mind, spoken in the same voice that had been mocking and laughing her earlier. She felt herself go completely cold as something dark reached for her from the darkest depths of a place she'd not wanted to even think about, disrupting her carefully crafted emotional control as it lovingly caressed her psyche and began to pry open old wounds she'd tried so desperately to hide and forget.

She felt herself being unraveled entirely, as memories of those dark times continued to be pulled up for her to relive over and over again. She placed her hands over her ears and shook her head, trying to blot out the voice that continued to weave its way into her mind, whispering sweet, honeyed words that attacked her where she was weakest…

Tears came unbidden to Lucina's eyes, her hand moving to wipe at them only for her shaking fingers to bang against her mask.

The voice laughed again, as if to mock her for her blunder, and she could only scream in fear and frustration as she tore her mask off and threw it across the room as if it offended her. She tried to blink the tears back, but her actions only served to make them fall faster.

Her eyes were wild and unfocused as they stared at images only she could see… Images of a burning castle she'd once called home… of the corpses of her family… of herself in chains within a dark room… of those wicked, gleaming, golden eyes and that mocking, insincere smile… of that sugary sweet tone of voice that haunted her memories, taunting her as it whispered suggestively into her ear for her to give in… to acknowledge that she was weak, that she was nothing without _him_…

"NO!" Lucina screamed, trying to block it all out. She was shaking uncontrollably, unable to contain the images that continued to pour in without remorse. She hugged herself, no longer trying to stop the tears that were already uncontrollably streaming down her pale cheeks.

"Help me…" she whimpered. "Help me, please…"

She was in utter despair. She was lost. She was weak, and unable to prevent the dark thoughts and memories from flooding her mind and heart.

For the second time since traveling to the past alone, Lucina could do nothing but let herself go.

Lucina could only cry.


	6. Chapter Four - Two Falchions

**Author's Note: I know it's been about half a year, but believe me when I say university is a killer. I'd hoped to have been able to at least maintain a semblance of an update schedule through the latter half of 2015, but unfortunately it didn't happen as my workloads at school have been tremendous.**

**That said, I'm going to be graduating this February, so as I apply for a job, hopefully I'll be able to churn out chapters at a quicker pace so we can get this story back on the road.**

**For those of you who are still sticking with me, thank you ever so much for your patience. The support has meant a lot to me even as I toiled away at things that weren't even related to this fic.**

**As usual, thoughts, feedback, discussions, etc. can all be sent to me through reviews. Follow-ups can be done through an exchange of PMs.**

**With that said, let's get the ball rolling! Naga be with you!**

* * *

_**Chapter Four – Two Falchions**_

Location: Central Ferox

It had been several days since the clash at the Longfort between the Shepherds and the Feroxi border guard manning the Northroad Gate. After the altercation had been resolved and situations explained, Captain Raimi had offered Chrom and the Shepherds to stay a day within the confines of the Longfort, citing that the weather that evening would be far too treacherous for them to even think of setting up camp without a local guide to steer them to areas that offered plenty of natural protection from the elements.

Chrom had been about to object, citing the pressing need to meet with the Khans as soon as possible, but Robin had pulled the prince aside and advised him to accept their offer of hospitality. Aside from allowing them the chance to rest with four walls around them for a welcome change of pace, Robin also noted that the Feroxi guard would need to wait for a replacement troop to arrive before they could proceed escorting the Ylissean group.

"It's a matter of pride for them that they rectify their earlier transgression, Chrom," the white-haired tactician had said. "With the amount of ground we've managed to cover so far, we're still a little bit ahead of schedule in spite of all these delays. If we ever needed to make up for lost time, I'm sure the Feroxi wouldn't mind picking up the pace a little bit. We can afford a night's rest here."

The tactician had then smiled lightly. "Besides, I'm sure that if the _Feroxi_ are saying that the weather's going to be bad, then it's not something we should take lightly. It's going to be bad."

True enough, the snowstorm that hit the mountainous borderlands that evening had been nothing quite like any of the Ylisseans had ever witnessed. The Feroxi guards had laughed it off, saying it was a regular occurrence in their country that helped them build toughness and character.

Lissa had balked at their choice of words, eliciting chuckles from both Chrom and Robin as they recalled the events surrounding their first meeting.

The prince had decided to heed his tactician's advice and wait out the rest of the day, even offering to help clear out the large amounts of snow from the pathways leading further into Ferox. With the replacement troops arriving the following morning, the Shepherds – accompanied by Captain Raimi's border guard – were now en route to the Feroxi capital. The Feroxi had been only too willing to accept the pace that Robin wished to set, allowing the Shepherds to make good time through the snow-covered Feroxi countryside. Their journey quickly took them through the craggy mountain ranges that marked the Ferox-Ylisse border and down into the densely-forested lowlands that made up much of the landscape of Regna Ferox.

Even days after, Chrom still found himself marvelling at Robin's expertise and skill. He would easily admit to himself and to others that listening to the white-haired man as he explained his reasoning behind his proposed courses of action had been quite the enlightening experience as a soldier, a leader, and a prince. The amnesiac tactician's logic was sound, and his analysis of the situation made plenty of sense… and not just from a purely strategic standpoint, but even from a logistical and morale standpoint. The white-haired man seemed to be able to absorb information at a glance and then go on to make carefully crafted decisions based upon what he knew.

That aside, it was simply incredible just how much knowledge Robin had managed to unlock in the weeks since they'd first met. Every time Robin learned something, it only seemed to be a key to him relearning or discovering something else that was hidden within the recesses of his mysterious but undoubtedly brilliant mind.

If Chrom had any lingering doubts about asking Robin to take up the role of the Shepherds' tactician, they were quickly being dispelled by the white-haired man's performance thus far. Just about everything he'd done so far had made Chrom feel like he'd made one of the best decisions he could have ever made, though he knew in the back of his mind that he couldn't say that for certain until Robin was tested by trying circumstances that the tacticians of old have faced.

The prince could only hope that such a time would never have to come to pass.

* * *

Location: Outskirts of Arena Ferox

After spending the better part of another week trekking across the snow-covered, forested expanse of the Feroxi lowlands, the Shepherds could finally see their end goal in sight as the massive structure known only as Arena Ferox came into view. It was no wonder the Feroxi were such a hardy people – with weather and a landscape that one could only describe as "punishing", it was a testament to the Feroxi people's strength that they have managed to make lives for themselves in such harsh living conditions.

Their journey had been fairly uneventful. They'd passed through a few villages, settlements, and outposts during their week of travel, but Robin found it rather curious why the locals inhabiting these areas hadn't paid them any more than a few questioning glances here and there. He'd initially thought it due to the presence of Captain Raimi and her troops, but raising the question had just led the Feroxi captain to let out a hearty laugh and explain to the amnesiac tactician that the Feroxi had once been composed mostly of nomadic tribes. It was almost natural for travellers to be passing through settlements as they had done.

"Woah…" Lissa breathed out as the Shepherds crunched through the snow, their pace having picked up just a little bit more with their destination finally within sight.

Beside Chrom and Lissa at the front of the column, Captain Raimi could not help but let out a slight chuckle. "It _is_ an impressive sight, no?" she said, fondness creeping into her voice as the group neared the city gates.

Robin frowned, his gaze wandering over the structure as the group approached. He had to admit that Raimi was right: it certainly _was_ impressive. Four huge gates equally spaced out around its massive, towering walls were the only ways in and out of the city, with said walls also contained an innumerable number of nests for archers and snipers to take position in. The tactician just couldn't help but feel that – name aside – Arena Ferox looked more fortress city than sporting arena.

He shook his head. _'Yet another place I wouldn't want to have to try invading… Naga forbid that Ylisse and Ferox ever go to war while I'm still around…'_

Normally, the white-haired tactician wouldn't have walked right with Chrom at the head of the order like this, much preferring to be a few paces behind so that he could give himself a wider area of vision. However, the Feroxi had been rather insistent that he do so. Frederick had pulled him aside and reminded him that the Feroxi valued strength and battle prowess above all else – clearly, his actions in battle had earned him some sort of recognition from Raimi and her troops.

Raimi's harsh features gave way to a small smile as the walls began to loom over the group. It wasn't just joy at the prospect of being home, Robin thought to himself.

_'No… it's pride. The people of Regna Ferox take pride in how they've managed to build lives for themselves… and in how they weather the harsh winters each year and grow stronger because of it.'_

The tactician could feel some of the Shepherds behind him staring up at Arena Ferox's high walls. No doubt they'd never seen anything quite like it; neither the Exalt's Palace nor the Grand Cathedral in Ylisstol even came close in size. Of course, he felt the same way, having lived – to his memory – for all of a few weeks, but he kept any reaction from his face as they passed through the gates.

"Welcome to the seat of Feroxi power, Your Highness," Raimi said as the Shepherds took their first steps into the capital of Regna Ferox. "Welcome to Arena Ferox."

Robin nearly smiled to himself as Chrom fidgeted. He had to wonder whether the Prince of Ylisse would ever truly break out of his inability to get used to the titles and social niceties demanded of his station… or if he'd ever even be able to act as said station demanded.

As the Shepherds walked through the garrison located within Arena Ferox's thick outer walls, Robin couldn't help but notice just how _different_ everyone looked, and he didn't mean that simply by comparing the physical traits of the Feroxi to those of the people he'd seen at Ylisstol. There was absolutely no sense of uniformity, pattern, or style that he could identify from the Feroxi soldiers keeping watch and patrolling the walls, the telltale sign of a culture that prioritized individuality above all else. Each soldier he saw or passed was an absolute riot of patterns and colors that was completely different from the last. Furs, leathers, iron plates, and chain mesh were mixed and matched together seemingly at random, while all manner of accessories from previous hunts or campaigns decorated each individual warrior's garb.

The tactician slid up next to Raimi. "Could you humor my curiosity, Captain?" he asked. Upon the armored woman's grave nod to continue, Robin discreetly indicated the Feroxi warriors they'd been passing with a slight inclination of his own head. "I couldn't help but notice how there seems to be no uniformity whatsoever amongst the Feroxi warriors. I'm curious why that's the case."

"We Feroxi warriors are our own selves," she explained as the group continued to make their way through the almost maze-like garrison. "We are encouraged to forge our own identity from an early age. We each serve individual warlords as part of their personal army, while they in turn answer directly to the Khan under whose jurisdiction their territory falls under. Warlords are only allowed to keep an army as large as their resources can maintain, and so they must first prove themselves capable of leading and providing for those who serve them."

Robin nodded in understanding. "Ah… so Regna Ferox is somewhat similar to feudalism, in a way. You serve your warlords, and the warlords in turn provide for their vassals and feudatories… I take it these customs have been in place for centuries, maybe even since the beginning of your nation's existence."

Raimi bowed her head. "You catch on quickly, Sire," she replied as she led group towards another gate. "Indeed, Regna Ferox has functioned in this manner since the days of our forefathers, when our nation was first founded in the aftermath of the Great Schism. Those were dark times, and our people had nothing save for what was on their backs and what was beneath their boots. We have survived through strength, and we shall continue to survive through strength. That has been – and always will be – the Feroxi way."

Before Robin could reply, his attention was quickly taken by the sudden change in brightness as the Shepherds and their Feroxi escort stepped through the gate and into open air once more. When his eyes had adjusted to the brightness, the tactician found himself at the top of a staircase and looking out over a bustling fortress town. A large dome-like building that Robin surmised was their destination stood in the center of the cityscape, dwarfing all other buildings around it in much the same way that the Exalt's Palace did in Ylisstol.

"So… do the Feroxi border guards serve any particular warlord?" Chrom asked as they descended the staircase, trying to keep the conversation going. "You mentioned serving individual warlords, so I assume you'd serve your own."

Raimi glanced at the prince out of the corner of her eye. "We of the border guard answer only to the reigning Khan," she replied. "Tasked as we are with protecting our nation's borders, only the chosen few are allowed to join our ranks. It is an honor and a responsibility that the Khan sees fit to bestow upon us."

Chrom nodded, wondering if such a system could ever work in Ylisse… a meritocracy wherein promotions and assignments were based on a person's ability and the efforts he'd shown in his current lot.

'_No way in hell that's happening,'_ he thought, giving a shake of the head that was equal parts sad and mirthful. _'The nobility would never allow for it.'_

Robin chuckled quietly to himself, having seen right through the prince's thoughts, before allowing himself to be taken in by the sights and sounds once more.

The marketplace Raimi had led them into was as busy as the commercial district Robin remembered being led through in Ylisstol, but with a wildly different atmosphere. All around their little group, armed and armored Feroxi went about their business, with many of them wearing thicker furs and cloaks than those he saw within the fortress walls to stave off the coming winter cold. As with the soldiers they'd passed indoors, each individual was a riot of colors and patterns – patterns which were slowly being picked up on by Robin. Some wore what seemed to be tabards around their shoulders, indicating rank, while others seemed to wear pieces of cloth in a certain manner which he guessed identified the clan to which they belonged.

However, the tactician still felt like something was eluding his senses. He could feel that there was something out of place with the Feroxi that he wasn't quite noticing straight off the bat.

Pushing it to the side, Robin returned to observing his surroundings as Raimi led them down another busy street where the Feroxi way of life made itself evident. The sounds of steel clanging against steel filled the air, as blacksmiths hammered away at their latest creations in front of their shops. Hollers and promises of good deals joined the cacophony as merchants attempted to attract customers to their displayed wares. Herders and shepherds – _'Real ones this time,'_ Robin thought to himself with a barely concealed snort of amusement – led their livestock to pens and tanneries and what have you.

It was almost as if Raimi was giving them a tour that displayed just what her homeland was capable of. Indeed, as she'd said, they'd made their lives in a very difficult environment, and for that Robin couldn't help a tinge of admiration for their relentless determination. The tactician was surrounded by an atmosphere of controlled chaos that he guessed would be typical of the northern nation's heavy industries. To most of the common folk, he had no doubt that the city's more industrial sectors and their general sense of a country preparing for war would have been viewed as irritating or barbaric, especially to outsiders unfamiliar with the Feroxi lifestyle or culture. However, as a military man – if he could hazard a guess as to his past self's true nature – Robin felt strangely at ease, as if this was what he had been doing his whole life.

_'Still… this all seems too…'_

Robin frowned at the word that was entering his mind. It didn't sit well with him at all, given the situation.

Normal.

Everything seemed perfectly normal, and life was as Robin would have expected it to look on any other day – in spite of the unrest to the South, the Feroxi were content to simply continue with their daily routines. Whether it was a sign of ignorance, bravado, or an ironclad trust in their leaders, the tactician couldn't quite tell. In fact, everything looked so normal that something felt completely out of place considering the situation across their borders, even if Robin couldn't quite put his finger on what it was just yet. Surely, the Khan must have heard of the tensions down South by now and strengthened their defenses in anticipation of the Risen threat or Plegian marauders reaching their lands. For them to be so lax was just inconceivable considering all the trouble they had just crossing into Ferox in the first place.

Were they simply that confident in the Longfort's ability to repel invaders, or…?

Robin took another look around, and that was when he saw something obvious that he'd missed before. It was then that he realized why his original conclusion had seemed so unnatural.

No matter where he looked, there was not a single Feroxi that didn't carry a weapon or have one within reach. Men, women, teenagers… even the children carried small knives and daggers at their belt, and that was the point he knew that Regna Ferox was most certainly not ignorant, nor were they lax. Oh, no. That was most certainly not the case. The Feroxi had no need to prepare any sort of additional response for the happenings in the South.

_The Feroxi were born ready. Every waking moment of theirs is spent ready to fight._

If there ever came a time when the nation was threatened, they would rise up as one to defend their homeland. Their people _were_ the army.

Robin suddenly felt very foolish for even considering something as laughable as the Feroxi having their guard down. If their guard _had_ been down, they surely wouldn't have had any problems at the Longfort, and neither would the Plegians who had attempted to masquerade as them before.

He shook his head. He wouldn't make the mistake of underestimating a nation or its leader again… not when he was responsible for the lives of his company.

* * *

Location: Khan's Palace, East Wing

Robin allowed his gaze to wander around the large hall he, Chrom, Lissa, and Frederick had just stepped into, noting that its size was about the only similarity to the hall where he'd met the Exalt Emmeryn. The rest of the party had been attended to upon their arrival, led away to an apartment complex that the Feroxi kept maintained for foreign dignitaries and other guests. Vaike had looked more than a little disgruntled, but the mention of food had quickly placated the fighter.

A royal blue carpet lent the hall a modicum of elegance, running as it did across the hall's entire length, but that was pretty much the only real display of wealth aside from the throne that sat on a raised dais, a polished silver crest of Regna Ferox hanging above it. Instead of rich tapestries and paintings, trophies of all kinds decorated the hall's walls – heads, skulls, pelts, tusks, teeth… just about anything that could be used to identify some of the most ferocious wild animals that prowled the northern steppes hung on the chamber's walls. Equally of note were weapons and armor pieces of various makes and origins adorning racks on the walls, clearly spoils of war judging from the fact that even after having obviously been restored there were still clear signs on each piece from where steel and silver had once cracked or been worn down from use and abuse.

_'That's a longsword from Ylisse… I'd say it's from a couple of generations back… oh, that one there's a curved blade from Plegia, and… I think that looks like a broadsword and shield set from– '_

The tactician stopped mid-appraisal. Where in Naga's name had all that come from? First combat tactics, then magic, and now he found he was even capable of something like weapon appraisal?

He sighed inaudibly. _'I really have to wonder if I'll ever get all these questions answered… Every small morsel of knowledge that comes up just brings more unanswered questions with it.'_

About midway through the hall, Raimi stopped and turned to face their small party.

"Prince Chrom, please wait here while I summon the Khan," she said, tone respectful if a little curt. "I will return shortly."

Chrom nodded. "Of course," he said, taking in a deep breath to steady himself. It was his first diplomatic mission without Emmeryn to take charge, and so he was understandably a little nervous. Hell, even his first fight had been less nerve-wracking than this!

"By your leave, then," Raimi said, giving the prince a slight bow before turning and heading towards a side door at the other end of the large hall. The door closed audibly behind the armored Feroxi warrior, leaving Chrom, Lissa, Frederick, and Robin to wait alone for the Khan to grant them an audience.

"Something the matter, Robin?" Chrom asked. "Couldn't help but notice you sigh earlier, even if you tried to hide it."

Robin shook his head. "Nothing at all," the tactician replied. "I'm just a little annoyed because I recognize the origins of those weapons hanging on the wall… and I have no idea why or how."

Chrom took on a thoughtful expression. "Huh… that so?" he hummed. "That's interesting. Maybe you were a traveller at some point in your life? A bit young, I must say, unless your parents were attached to a nomadic group or one of the larger merchant caravans traveling the continent."

Frederick frowned. "That may be, Milord… but that would fail to account for his training in the combat and arcane arts. Perhaps he was the child of a member of a mercenary group?"

The prince shrugged. "Doubtful. Robin's a bit too educated in matters unrelated to mercenary work."

"Either way, it's not important right now. We'll work it out eventually, so we should just keep ourselves focused on the here and now," Robin cut in, trying to steer the topic of discussion away from him. "I'm curious as to what Raimi said earlier, though. The Khan is away?"

Chrom shrugged lightly. "Out training, I'd wager," he replied. "The Khans of Regna Ferox prefer battle to politics."

He suddenly smiled. "Or rather, battle _is_ their politics."

Frederick gave his liege a disapproving frown. "And were we not careful, Milord would be keen on emulating their brand of politics at home."

Lissa giggled. "Chrom always _was_ good at breaking things."

"Oh, ha ha," the beleaguered prince fired back, his face heating up from the two pronged assault he was receiving from his sister and bodyguard.

Robin couldn't help but chuckle at Chrom's badgering. It was admittedly helping him calm his nerves and anxieties about everything.

"A warrior ruler, eh? I can picture him now…" the tactician said, grinning. "A giant of a man of unparalleled thew, with arms thicker than my head is wide, his broad chest covered in a forest of hair…"

The tactician couldn't help but chuckle to himself at the image he was conjuring.

"Oh, am I now?" an amused and undoubtedly female voice called out from behind him. "Please, do go on!"

"Eh?"

Robin froze, all cheer instantly evaporating from his face. Beads of cold sweat ran down his suddenly-pale face as he turned ever so slowly to look wide-eyed at the newcomer that had emerged from the far end of the hall. Chrom would have laughed were he not as nervous as Robin clearly was, although Lissa's choked giggling let the prince at least _someone_ was finding something humorous about the whole situation. Even the ever-stoic Frederick had managed to crack a half-smile at the situation their new tactician had landed himself in.

The new arrival taking long, graceful strides towards them was a tall, well-built woman clad in superbly crafted, well-polished red and white armor. She possessed the tanned skin that was a prevalent feature in Regna Ferox, and long blonde hair held up in a messy ponytail. While she wasn't what Chrom or Robin would call a beauty, she still possessed handsome facial features, with full lips and sharp, intelligent eyes being the main highlights.

Those lips were smirking in what Robin could only hope was genuine amusement, else he might find that his new life would be coming to an end much sooner than he'd ever hope or expect. Behind the woman, Raimi sent the tactician a vicious smirk, thoroughly enjoying the situation playing out before her.

"You're the–?! Er, I mean… that is to say… the khan, I presume?" Chrom got out, using what diplomatic ability he had to try and salvage the situation.

The blonde woman's smirk morphed into a grin. "Yes, one of them – the East Khan. My name is Flavia," she replied, still grinning as she continued to eye the tactician with genuine amusement, watching as he squirmed beneath her attention.

Satisfied that he'd made him uncomfortable enough, Flavia turned her attention to Chrom, her grin quickly dying as her expression turned apologetic.

"I apologize for the troubles at the border, Prince Chrom," she said. "You and your party are welcome in Regna Ferox."

Having regained his senses, Robin took a moment to appraise Flavia's body language. She really did seem contrite and sincere in her apologies – perhaps he and his big mouth hadn't gone and ruined any potential for receiving aid from their allies just yet.

Chrom stepped forward and offered Flavia his hand, though one could sense the uncertainty in his actions even if the prince hid them well. Flavia watched Chrom for a moment, her eyes appraising the young prince, who tried not to fidget and squirm under the scrutiny. However, her lips broke into a grin and she stepped in closer to clasp his forearm – a warrior's greeting.

The prince couldn't help but grin back as he returned the gesture, glad that he'd managed to overcome the first hurdle.

"Thank you, but I'm confident we can put that little misunderstanding behind us," Chrom said as the two leaders stepped back from each other.

Robin hid a glower from where he stood. _'Really? They almost turned you into a pincushion, Chrom,'_ he thought, keeping his tongue in check before he put them in a more precarious situation than they probably already were in.

"I suppose it's true, then?" the prince continued. "I heard from your captain that bandits posing as Ylisseans and myself have been crossing your border and ransacking your villages."

At this, Flavia scowled, her expression dark at the mention of the bandit raids. "Yes. Those Plegian dogs!" she spat, clear distaste for the Plegians etched on her face. "We found documents proving as much on the corpses of one of their captains. And while some of our border troops may not have much experience dealing with Ylisseans…"

At this, Raimi grimaced, clearly aware of the slight jab being sent her way.

"… The accent I heard was unmistakably Plegian when I took to the field to deal with one of their latest raids. Much as they try to, there's just no real way a Plegian can fully erase his accent and mimic your own, Prince, no matter how good an actor he may believe himself to be."

Flavia shook her head. "Clearly, Plegia's king must see some benefit in raising tensions between our kingdom and yours."

"Damn them!" Chrom growled, the prince's emotions getting the better of him before he could catch himself.

A look of embarrassment crossed his features as he realized his error, and if he didn't know any better he could feel Frederick's disapproving glare boring a hole into the back of his skull.

"I… Forgive me, Your Grace," he said quickly, trying to make amends for his words. "That was… indelicately put."

To Chrom's equal parts relief and surprise, Flavia threw her head back and let out a hearty laugh in response.

"Ha! Yes, damn them, and damn delicacy!" she said loudly as she laughed, giving the prince a good, hard slap on the shoulder. "Here in Ferox, we appreciate plain speech. It makes it so much easier to understand one another if you just say things straight!"

"Well, in that case, you should have some words with your damned border guards…" Chrom said, grinning as he shot a glance at an embarrassed Raimi, which got more raucous laughter from the Khan.

"Ha! Now _that_ is Feroxi diplomacy!" Flavia barked out, grinning wildly. "Yes, I like you already, Princeling!"

Lissa leaned in next to Robin and whispered, "It looks like the source of Emm's frustrations turned out to be a good thing here…"

The tactician snorted, his laughter only becoming much harder to keep in when he noticed Frederick giving them what was quickly becoming his trademark frown and glare.

"Maybe she sent Chrom here precisely for that reason…"

Beside the pair, Frederick sighed as he watched his liege get a little more excitable as he found himself more and more at home. Deciding it was best to steer things back on course, the knight cleared his throat at the same time Raimi did from behind Flavia, providing a surprisingly synchronized reminder for the two leaders over what they were supposed to be doing.

"Milord." "Khan Flavia."

The two calls snapped the two back to reality, and they both quickly recalled that they had important business to take care of.

Appropriately chastised, Flavia coughed as she straightened herself, looking more like the impressive leader her title said she was.

"Well, that aside. I know why you've come, Princeling," Flavia said, mirth fading from her tone and her expression as she grew serious once more.

Chrom, as well, straightened himself fully, aware that the next few minutes – maybe even seconds – were what he had come all this way for, and could potentially decide the fate of his nation.

"Unfortunately," Flavia continued, a frown marring her features. "I cannot provide Ylisse with the reinforcements she needs."

To his credit, Chrom remained the model of composure as he took the news in. He didn't flinch, didn't grimace, didn't deflate, or show any other outward sign of displeasure, dismay, or disappointment, as was proper for the lead dignitary of a diplomatic envoy. At Chrom's shoulder, Frederick stood rock still, narrowed eyes and slight frown being the only clues as to what was running behind his stony expression.

Lissa, however, held no such training or compunctions, and showed enough for all four present.

"What?!" she cried out, giving voice to the party's shocked thoughts. "But why not?!"

At Chrom's other shoulder, Robin's brows furrowed together as his mind began racing behind the hazel eyes that continued to watch and observe. The situation was curious.

_'Why not, indeed…?'_ he thought. _'Perhaps it has something to do with how she identified herself… the East-Khan, wasn't it? Does that mean there are other Khans who share in the authority over Regna Ferox?'_

For her part, Flavia simply sighed. "It is not for a lack of a desire to aid you, Prince. I lack the authority to commit Feroxi troops to your cause."

_'Bingo,'_ Robin thought to himself. _'They probably rule by council or something, which means she'd have to get them all on her side… either that, or power somehow shifts between them and we've come at an absolutely terrible time when power's not with the one most sympathetic to our plight.'_

Chrom's expression grew troubled. "Forgive me, Your Grace, but I don't understand," he said. "Aren't you the Khan?"

Flavia shrugged. "As I said earlier, I am _one_ of the Khans – the East-Khan, to be specific," she replied casually, almost as if she were talking about the weather. "There are two of us, the Khans of the East and the West, and every few years we hold a tournament to decide who will become the new Khan Regent. The Khan Regent acquires total sovereignty over both the East and the West, and that also comes with control over all the warlords and armies. And, most importantly, that also means they have the final say when it comes to forging alliances…"

"Which means that right now the West Khan is the one with sovereignty, correct?" Robin supplied.

Flavia nodded. "That's right. The oaf won the last tournament, you see, and so…"

"So we are to receive no aid at all?" Chrom bit out, whatever patience he had reaching its end at such a roundabout explanation.

At this, the Khan grinned viciously as she crossed her arms.

"Only if you give up so easily, Princeling!" she scolded, which brought a glimmer of hope back to the young man's expression.

Robin almost shook her head at how easy it was to manipulate the Prince's emotions.

If Flavia's expression were any indication, she must have been thinking along similar lines.

_'He's way too naïve… but I guess that's what to expect of someone who hasn't quite dealt with the harshness of reality.'_

Flavia's sigh made Robin push that thought aside as the Khan continued to speak. "The next tournament is nigh, and I am in need of champions to represent me."

"What does that have to do with us?" Chrom asked.

"She wants us to represent her in the tournament," Robin cut in. "Is that right?"

Chrom turned to his tactician. "Robin! Don't speak out of turn!" he said, his irritation from earlier still not abating.

Flavia, however, simply laughed it off. "At ease, Princeling. As I've said, we at Ferox prefer plain speech." She jerked her head in the direction of Raimi. "The captain of my border guard has told me on the way here that you and your Shepherds are quite capable in combat."

She then nodded at Robin. "It is as your tactician here surmises. Perhaps you would consider representing the East in the upcoming tournament?" she asked, stunning Chrom, Frederick, and Lissa with the proclamation.

After a few moments of shocked silence, Flavia sighed inaudibly. "If you win me the title of Khan Regent, then you can consider the alliance a done deal."

Chrom swallowed. "R-really? Just like that?" he asked.

Flavia chuckled at Chrom's gobsmacked expression. "Is it so unbelievable an offer, Princeling?"

Said prince shook his head. "N-no, Your Grace," he replied. "I'm just surprised is all. I would have assumed Ylisseans – outsiders, in general, really – had no place in such Feroxi traditions."

A bark of laughter from Flavia was his answer. "Ha! On the contrary," she replied. "The khans themselves do not fight – they choose champions to represent themselves. Otherwise, our land would be rife with blood feuds and dead khans!"

Flavia laughed again, as if the whole idea amused her.

Still, Chrom nodded. While he didn't quite understand why Flavia found it amusing, he _did _understand why the tournament was fought in such a manner.

"We don't involve comrades or kin for the same reason," the Khan added once she had gotten her mirth under control. "Over time, it was decided the tournament should be fought by outsiders, although the outsiders have ever included foreign royalty… well, that _I _know of! Ha!"

Another bark of laughter came from Flavia, before she fully wiped the mirth from her features and regarded Chrom with as serious a look as the prince had seen from her thus far.

"Regardless, it is your choice to make, Princeling. I will not force you into this course of action."

Chrom turned halfway to see the reactions of the rest of his party. Frederick's expression was stony as always, but Chrom could detect the resigned acceptance that had become almost customary of his steward and bodyguard. Lissa looked concerned for him, but deep in her eyes was the same determination he felt to help his people in whatever way he could.

And finally… there was Robin. The tactician's expression was almost unreadable, even after Chrom held his gaze on the man for a few more moments. However, he gave the prince a nearly imperceptible nod, and to Chrom that was all that was necessary.

Turning back to Flavia, he gave her a nod. "There is no choice, East-Khan," he said confidently. "My people are desperate. We face not only Plegia's constant attacks, but the added threat of the Risen scourge. If fighting for you in this tournament is the quickest way to an alliance between our two nations, then I will gladly take up my steel and put my life on the line."

Flavia raised an eyebrow, wondering where _this _Princeling had been hiding all this time. Thoroughly amused, she let out another bark of laughter.

"Haha! Oh, I like you indeed, Princeling," she remarked. "I do hope you survive the tournament!"

Turning to regard the entire party, she beckoned them towards her. "Come, I'll show you where the tournament is to be held," she said. With that, she turned and walked towards the door she'd entered through, Raimi and Chrom falling into step with her with Lissa, Frederick, and Robin following close behind.

As they walked, Flavia seemed to remember something, and turned to Chrom. "You'd do best to be wary, though," she said. "I hear that a swordsman of exceptional skill champions the West-Khan's cause."

Chrom almost smiled at the thought of facing a powerful adversary. "No matter how able the opponent, he shall be defeated by Ylisse's necessity," he said firmly. "I can't lose, not when my sister and our people depend on it."

Flavia grinned. "Well-spoken again – I look forward to seeing if you're equally skilled with a blade! Raimi spoke highly of you, so I trust you won't disappoint!"

Robin frowned. _'I hope so, too… otherwise, it's Chrom's life that will be forfeit.'_

* * *

Location: Coliseum

"I'm surprised you're okay with this," Chrom remarked as he stretched, limbering up in preparation for his match.

A few paces away, Robin shrugged from where he was leaning against a pillar.

"I'm not. I'm also not exactly in a position to tell you what you can and can't do, either," he replied as his eyes scanned the pages of his tome, making occasional marks and notes here and there with a writing implement he'd managed to borrow… without permission, that is.

The two men currently stood in one of the waiting areas in the circular structure that was Arena Ferox's Coliseum. Outside, the roar of the crowd filled the air as combatants fought tooth and nail in the Coliseum's fighting arena, a circular pit set right in the center of the structure that served as the stage for the Khan's tournament. Hundreds of Feroxi filled the stands all throughout the arena, shouting their support for the fighters representing their respective warlords.

It had been a couple of days since Chrom had agreed to represent Khan Flavia in the tournament, and in that time Robin had tried to find out as much as he could about the West-Khan's champion so that he could draft possible strategies for the prince to use in the duel. With the alliance they so desperately needed riding on the outcome of this tournament, just about any advantage they could gain beforehand may prove decisive.

However, the tactician's efforts had proved futile, as no matter what he tried, information on the West-Khan's champion remained incredibly scarce. All that he'd been able to glean from his two days of searching had been that the swordsman had arrived barely a few days before they had, challenged the West-Khan's former champion, and handed said champion a resounding defeat.

Chrom raised an eyebrow at Robin's declaration. "You're my tactician, Robin. You're _supposed_ to be telling me what's a good idea and what isn't."

Robin sighed, marking the page he was on with a slip before snapping his tome shut with an audible click.

"That may be true, but I also have to take into account whether taking risks could make achieving our goals any easier if they pay off," the white-haired tactician said. "I've given our situation some thought over these past couple of days, and I honestly don't see any other option more straightforward than this. It's a one-on-one duel until one side concedes or is no longer capable of fighting. You win, Khan Flavia becomes Khan Regent and we get our alliance and our reinforcements. You lose, and we have to go grovel to the West-Khan. It doesn't get much simpler than that."

It was Chrom's turn to sigh. "Yeah, simple," he muttered. "No pressure at all."

Robin's expression softened into one of sympathy. "Hey, don't worry. If anything, there's not one person in the Shepherds that doesn't believe you'll win."

Chrom glared at the tactician. "Not helping, Robin."

"You thinking too hard about the situation won't help much, either," the white-haired tactician replied easily as he opened his tome and went back to reading through it. "Leave that part to me, Chrom. Just focus on what's in front of you, and fight your hardest."

"Robin's right, Chrom!" Lissa chirped as she entered the room, Frederick right behind her. "You should just get out there and kick the other guy's butt! Show him who's boss!"

Behind the princess, Frederick nodded gravely. "And I will be right there to protect you in the case of any grave danger, milord."

"We can't interfere with the duel in any way, Frederick," Robin said distractedly as he made a mark in one of the pages. "We do that, we automatically lose."

Frederick directed a scathing glare at Robin. "If milord's life is in danger, then I shall not hesitate to become his shield, Sir Tactician."

Said tactician sighed again and snapped his tome shut. Irritation welled up within him, but he clamped down hard on it and tried to keep everything under control of reason.

"The very concept of battle already puts him in danger from the very beginning," he replied, still keeping his tome even. "So you're telling me that you'll get down there the moment Chrom's opponent takes a swing at him? Use your head, Frederick, please. We can't interfere, because to do so would be to insult the culture of Regna Ferox. It's their way of life, not ours. Your loyalty to Chrom is certainly admirable, but you're being blind in your devotion, and that can get us into more trouble than you might imagine."

Frederick bristled at Robin's retort, anger flitting across his features for a brief moment before he schooled them into impassivity once more.

"Your words will be taken under consideration, Sir Tactician," he said curtly. Turning to Chrom and then to Lissa, he gave each a short bow in turn. "By your leave, milord, milady."

With nothing more than a departing glance at the white-haired tactician, the knight turned on his heel and walked out the way he came, shutting the door behind him with a fair bit more force than might have really been necessary.

A moment of uncomfortable silence followed Frederick's departure before a knock came at the door. Before Chrom could even get a word in, the person on the other side opened the door and stepped into the waiting room.

"Good day, Prince," Raimi greeted, giving Chrom and Robin nods of respect. If she noticed the uncomfortable atmosphere in the room, she was doing very well at pretending it didn't exist or was simply choosing to ignore that it was even there. "Khan Flavia has sent me to inform you that it is time."

Chrom nodded in understanding. "I understand. Please let her know that I will be there."

Raimi gave a short bow and wordlessly left the trio to their own devices.

"Well, I guess that's that, then," Lissa quickly said before the silence from before could settle in again. The princess moved towards the door, turning to give the two men still in the waiting room – Robin, in particular – a reassuring smile.

"Big Brother, you just make sure you win, alright?" she said. "And don't worry about Freddie, Robin. I'll just give him a good talking-to when I see him."

Chrom nodded, and Lissa gave her brother a cheeky grin before pulling the door open. The moment the door closed behind her, Robin sighed once more.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," the white-haired tactician said. "I–"

Chrom shook his head. "Don't worry. I know you meant well. Frederick just can't stand the thought of his devotion ever being _wrong_," he replied. "I'll talk to him, too. Help him see the sense in your words."

Robin smiled weakly. "After you win."

"Mm, after I win," Chrom parroted.

The tactician gave the prince a nod of finality before pocketing his tome and moving for the door. His hand made for the handle, stopping just inches away from it before finishing the journey and resting right on the handle.

A moment passed as Robin, with his head down, seemed to think some things over before raising it. He didn't look at Chrom, however.

"If things turn against you, don't hesitate to forfeit," he said. "We can always try talking to the West-Khan if we lose, Chrom. This isn't our only chance or our only option, and it definitely isn't worth your life."

With his last piece said, the tactician opened the door and slipped out into the hallway, closing it silently behind him.

Chrom stared at the spot where his tactician had seemingly struggled with himself, wondering what had come over the other man and what had been going through his mind in those few moments of hesitation.

After a moment of contemplation, the prince closed his eyes and took a deep breath, clearing his mind of everything that was unimportant to what was coming up.

_'I appreciate the concern, Robin… but there's no way we're getting to that point. I don't plan on losing. I _can't_ lose.'_

When he opened his eyes, he had only one thing left in his mind: victory.

For Ylisse, any other outcome was unacceptable.

* * *

Robin sighed as he walked down the hallway towards the private viewing box that the East-Khan had been kind enough to offer for the Shepherds' use during the tournament.

_'I _really_ shouldn't have confronted Frederick like that… I know we're all on edge, but I still shouldn't have gone about it the way I had.'_

He wondered what had come over him in that moment. He'd thought himself to be a fairly calm and collected individual, judging by his own behaviour in the weeks since being found by Chrom. He'd found ways to work around everyone's quirks and personalities, Frederick most especially considering he tended to be the hardest Shepherd to give orders to.

The tactician sighed again as the entryway into their viewing box came into view.

_'Well, regardless, I'm starting from square one with him again,'_ he thought wryly to himself as he stepped past the two guards that stood at attention on either side of the entryway and into the viewing box. As he stepped in, it quickly occurred to Robin that they were being given quite the treatment - their box was in a prime position with a commanding view of the action, located as it was right next to the boxes reserved for the East and West-Khans' own personal use.

_'I guess even the Feroxi have a thing for showing favor towards important guests.'_

Right as he turned the corner, Robin very nearly bumped into Frederick, who was standing at the back, almost right next to the entryway. As Robin might have expected, the big knight still couldn't trust the guards that had been personally assigned by the East-Khan to watch over them, as he stood closest to the entrance that a threat was most likely to come from, his eyes looking out over the rest of the Shepherds that were mingling amongst each other, and even out into the almost riotous crowd of Feroxi that were clamoring for the next contest to begin.

The big knight's expression was impassive as always, lips set in a grim line and eyes narrowed as he looked down at the tactician that had no doubt slighted him earlier. Robin merely stood his ground, meeting Frederick's gaze evenly without showing any of the anxiety or hesitation he might have been feeling deep down.

The tension fell over the two like a blanket, and if Robin's mental fortitude was any less than it was he'd probably have backed down right there.

_'I can't, though. I'm a tactician. He needs to see that I'm stable and firm.'_

Before either of them could move or speak, Lissa's voice rose above the din of conversation.

"Hey! Robin! Over here!" Lissa called out, her voice shattering the tense atmosphere between tactician and knight and bringing them both back to reality.

Turning to face the princess' way, Robin saw her kneeling on her seat, one hand resting on top of the seat's back while the other waved at him. If she had seen their little stand-off, she was doing a good job at pretending she hadn't.

_'Actually… did _anyone_ even notice?'_

Sparing a glance at Frederick to check his reaction, Robin found himself surprised when the larger man – still glaring, mind – simply stepped aside to let him past.

Robin gave the bigger man a nod before silently making his way down the steps to the front row of their box. He stopped for a moment to look out into the fighting arena down below, imagining how the battle would most likely flow in the large, circular area.

_'Lots of space to move… it'll definitely be hard to run an opponent out of escape options in a fighting area like this. This battle will be decided by fighting skill, plain and simple. There's no real opportunity for duplicity or tactics… then again, Chrom's not one for either of those. He'll want to outfight his opponent.'_

Nodding to himself, Robin shuffled into the front row and took the one remaining empty seat, between Lissa and Sumia. The tactician looked to his left to acknowledge the pegasus knight next to him with a nod.

"How are you doing, Sumia?" he asked kindly.

Said knight gave him a small smile. "I'm well, thank you, Robin," she replied, hiding any signs of any discomfort she may have been feeling. "And you?"

Robin shrugged easily. "As well as can be, I suppose," he said. "The work never really stops, but I'll manage. I'm glad you're doing better, though."

As much as Sumia tried to hide her condition, and in spite of Lissa's immediate first-aid treatment back at the Longfort, he'd easily figured out that the heavy bruising the pegasus knight had suffered during the battle with the Feroxi border guard had yet to fully heal. He'd asked Sumia about it, and with just a little coaxing she'd admitted to exactly what he'd guessed to be the case.

If Robin had to guess as to why – Lissa had had no problems with healing him back in Southern Ylisse, and he had been in worse shape than Sumia – he'd put it down to Lissa not quite being in the best condition herself – her struggle with the extremely cold climates may have impaired her ability to focus enough magical power to heal Sumia all in one go.

_'It's not her fault, though. Perhaps with more experience and a stronger staff, she'll be able to eventually pull off full heals even in these kinds of weather conditions.'_

Granted, he had to admit that Sumia had been a real trooper every step of the way, soldiering on without complaint through the harsh weather and terrain.

_'Then again, she might just not want her beloved Captain to worry about her,'_ he thought. _'They're both just a bit too obvious and oblivious about their feelings.'_

Sumia frowned. "Hmm, but you shouldn't burn yourself out, Robin," she said. "If you ever need help, you should say so. I'm sure we'd all be willing to help you at some point."

Before he could reply to that, a blaring horn sounded out over the Coliseum, prompting a round of cheers from the crowd.

_'It's time…'_ Robin thought to himself as he and Sumia – now both serious – turned their full attention to the arena pit once more.

Chrom entered from one side, head held high as he walked with a confident gait towards the center of the pit. The crowd immediately let loose a roar as the East-Khan's representative came to a halt just outside the engraved inner circle, holding himself tall before the Feroxi observers.

_'There's Chrom…'_ Robin thought. _'Now, to see who his opponent will be.'_

"Robin!" Lissa cried out, grabbing the tactician's arm hard and pointing down at something in the fighting arena. "Look!"

Robin narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward and tried to pick out what had Lissa so alarmed…

And that was when he saw him. Walking in from the shadowed opposite end of the arena was a very familiar figure – a young, slender man in fine clothing and armor, and an unforgettable butterfly-shaped mask obscuring the top half of his face.

Marth.

Chrom's opponent was none other than the enigmatic swordsman they'd met when this entire mess had first started.

"I see him…" he murmured lowly, hand instinctively going to the tome resting within his coat.

This was not going to be good.

* * *

The roar of the crowd had been deafening from the moment he'd stepped into the arena.

Chrom was indeed more than a little nervous. No man who knew he was about to go into a battle potentially to the death could ever say he wasn't nervous in the lead up to the battle, especially not with so many people watching as if it were some sort of spectacle.

He'd been kneading and fiddling with Falchion's hilt while he waited, wondering what sort of adversary he'd be facing in single combat.

His earlier nervousness, however, had been quickly replaced with genuine surprise the moment his opponent stepped into view.

"You're my opponent?" the prince asked incredulously when Marth had stopped just short of two lengths from him. "You're the swordsman that Khan Flavia was talking about?

"I am."

"Marth, I would speak before we cross swords," Chrom said. "Would you allow me one question, before we begin?"

Silence was the prince's only reply as the masked swordsman simply stared him down.

"… Fine, then. I suppose our swords can do the speaking for us!" he growled, drawing Falchion from its sheath and twirling the sacred blade about with a flourish before settling into a simple opening stance, weapon held out before him in a balanced two-handed guard.

Chrom couldn't be sure, but he could have sworn that Marth's lips almost quirked upwards in a slight smirk as the masked swordsman drew his own blade and – much to Chrom's surprise – twirled the blade about in a remarkable imitation of his own flourish before taking nearly the exact same stance.

_'Now he's just taunting me…'_ Chrom thought, eyes narrowing. _'Don't fall for it, Chrom. He _wants_ you to get riled up and lose focus.'_

In spite of telling himself not to lose focus, Chrom very nearly did exactly that as his eyes ran over the gold and silver blade Marth held in his hand.

_'Wait… that's…!'_

In the masked swordsman's hands was an exact replica of the sword Chrom held in his hands – a sword that was supposed to be one of a kind, passed down through the descendants of the hero Anri, through the royal house of Altea, and hundreds of years later through the royal house of Ylisse.

"That sword…" he murmured under his breath, disbelief etched across his features. "Where did you get that sword?!"

Again, silence met the prince, although Marth's expression held a more noticeable frown.

Chrom scowled. _'Fine… so that's how it is,'_ he thought, taking in deep, calming breaths to quell his frustrations. _'If you won't answer me now, then I'll just have to get them after I beat you!'_

With nothing left to be said, Chrom surged into action, intent on achieving as swift a victory as possible. Breaking his stance, the prince took off in a short sprint and leapt high into the air, turning the motion into a spinning blow that would have crushed any normal man with the momentum behind its strike.

The clang of steel meeting steel resounded throughout the arena, Marth's knees bending slightly as the smaller man swung his sword to meet Chrom's attack head-on in a shower of sparks. The slender masked swordsman had needed both hands on his blade's hilt to help absorb the force of the impact, but there was no mistaking the fact that he'd absorbed the full force of Chrom's attack.

_'What?!'_

Chrom's eyes widened in shock – there was no way Marth should have been able to know exactly when and how to block!

He had no time to ponder how Marth could have known the openings in his attackk, because the masked swordsman was already moving into action.

Marth quickly pushed the prince's sword aside before spinning into a blindingly quick counterattack that nearly took Chrom's head off had the prince not raised his own sword to parry. The masked swordsman's Falchion copy then moved into motion, invading Chrom's circle of defense with swing after swing and forcing the prince onto the defensive.

Chrom's mind was a flurry of activity even as his body worked furiously to defend himself from Marth's offense. He swung Falchion in two high arcs, deflecting a pair of overhead strikes from Marth, before quickly bringing the sacred sword across to his right side as he stepped to the left, his blade clashing with the masked swordsman's own as the latter lashed out with a quick slash aimed at the prince's exposed right shoulder.

Continuing his movement into a spin, Chrom brought Falchion around to the left, raising it just in time to block a particularly vicious blow from Marth as the masked swordsman used the momentum from his own spin to batter Chrom's sword aside. Unwilling to allow the prince any time to breathe, Marth arrested the backswing from his previous strike before striking once more from the opposite side, his Falchion colliding with Chrom's own blade as the prince barely managed to bring his sword back into position to block the follow-up attack from the masked swordsman.

Releasing the grip his off-hand had on his Falchion copy, Marth swung with an unbelievably quick and precise one-handed slash before continuing the motion into an acrobatic overhead strike that very nearly took Chrom by surprise had he not already been giving ground before the masked swordsman's relentless assault.

Ducking beneath Marth's attack with the space he had, Chrom took a step back before raising his sword in a higher guard, managing to deflect two more overhead strikes that were coming in at his shoulders before he stepped in and took the third head-on, managing to get Marth's own sword in a deadlock.

"Tell me!" he ground out in between clashes as he struggled to hold Marth at bay. "Who taught you to fight like that?!"

As usual there was no reply from Marth as the masked swordsman regarded him silently, merely a shower of sparks as the two Falchions ground against each other before their respective wielders both gave a shove, sending both swordsmen skidding back.

Quickly regaining his footing, Chrom twirled Falchion in a flourish before settling into a stance, the sacred sword held at chest level and pointed directly at Marth even as the latter performed an identical flourish, holding his own weapon at head level. Both took a step forward before lunging forward into mirroring leaping thrusts, both Falchions barely managing to deflect the course of the other and preventing either swordsman from scoring a hit.

Skidding to a halt as his feet hit the ground, Chrom quickly turned, only to see Marth toss his sword up into the air before following up after it in a graceful somersault, his slender frame eclipsing the light pouring in through the open ceiling. Catching the spinning weapon at the crest of his leap, Marth carried the sword's own momentum into his own movements, spinning and flipping several times in midair before descending with incredible speed.

As Marth brought his own blade down in a near-perfect replica of Chrom's own opening technique, he finally gave the prince his first reply since the fight began.

"My father!" the masked swordsman answered forcefully as he hit the ground blade first.

Chrom barely managed to roll out of the way of the unexpected move before Marth's Falchion pierced the spot of arena floor where the prince had been standing only a moment before.

Too stunned by what he'd just seen to even take advantage of Marth's momentary vulnerability, Chrom could only watch as the masked swordsman rose to his feet and turned, pointing his Falchion copy right at Ylisse's crown prince. Sunlight glinted off its blade, and in that moment Chrom couldn't have thought the Falchion a more terrifying sight.

There had been no mistaking it. Marth had copied the very same technique he'd used to open the duel, move for move.

"There's no way…" Chrom whispered, reappraising the opponent standing before him as he rose from a crouch to his feet.

_'Marth… just who _are_ you?!'_

* * *

Robin watched with interest as the two swordfighters renewed their clash. Their combat styles held some remarkable similarities, with both being capable of powerful, two-handed strikes designed to overpower an opponent's defenses. This quality wasn't so much a surprise when looking at the well-built Chrom, but the fact that someone of slight build such as Marth was capable of delivering such powerful attacks had thrown him off.

_'He never fought in that way back in the forest… Odd. His technique's changed.'_

That was where the similarities had ended, unfortunately. While Chrom preferred to maintain a proper defensive foundation while lashing out with powerful – and oftentimes brutal – attacks and counters, Marth instead kept up a relentless assault with a dazzling display of skill and elegance that was truly a sight to behold. While his sword strokes were at times equal in power to Chrom's own, it was the speed and precision with which the masked swordsman moved that Robin found to be the most impressive aspect of his fighting style as he employed fluid motions and aerial strikes and acrobatics to overwhelm his adversary.

No matter how Chrom moved to try and force the momentum of the fight back his way, Marth simply outmanoeuvred him at every exchange, dancing in and out of the engagement as he worked his way around the Ylissean prince's defenses and continued to press the advantage.

"He's quite the gifted swordsman…" he murmured, eyes narrowing as Marth continued his assault, launching precise strikes from a variety of angles and forcing Chrom to give ground yet again. "I think we might be in trouble here."

Lissa gave him a nervous look. "Brother's going to be alright, won't he?"

Robin didn't answer as he continued to observe Marth's movements. The feeling from the forest was back – he just couldn't shake off the impression that the masked swordsman was hiding something in just about everything he did.

_'Even the way he fights just feels off… and it's not because he's extraordinarily good – which he certainly is. There's something in how he fights which just doesn't add up.'_

The tactician frowned in concentration as he leaned forward, watching intently as the duel continued to unfold.

He needed to figure out what it was. He just hoped it didn't come because Chrom – in the heat of battle – forgot that discretion was the better part of valor.

* * *

Chrom took in deep gulps of air in between parries and blocks, filling his burning lungs with the much needed oxygen that enabled his body to keep on moving and fighting.

Marth's fighting ability was simply unbelievable. It didn't matter what sort of defensive posture Chrom took against the masked swordsman; the smaller man either met him strength for strength – something which surprised him a great deal – or used his naturally greater agility to weave through the prince's blocks and counters with almost frightening ease.

_'It's almost like he knows exactly what I'm going to do every time!'_ Chrom thought as he brought Falchion up into a defensive posture, intercepting Marth's Falchion copy as the masked swordsman struck with blinding speed from the left. Reacting quickly to Chrom's movement, Marth pirouetted around him to strike from the opposite side, but the prince was just about quick enough with his blade to deflect that strike as well. Marth continued the motion, twisting into a midair spin and bringing his sword down in a powerful overhead blow which Chrom was able to catch with Falchion before pushing the masked swordsman back with a burst of raw strength.

Finally seeing an opening, Chrom stepped forward and put all his strength into a wide, two-handed sweep. As he'd come to expect, Marth easily saw through such a telegraphed move and leaped backwards, but it had accomplished Chrom's goal of opening up some breathing room.

Marth chose not to approach for whatever reason, allowing Chrom to regain some vitality as he tried to discern the masked swordsman's next movements. Chrom looked quite worn out, holding Falchion in a loose grip as he kept a low guard to try and conserve his strength and get the feeling back in his burning arm muscles. On the contrast, Marth's posture, stance, and bearing were as regal and composed as they were at the start of the duel. It was as if the masked swordsman was seemingly no worse for wear in spite of his high-energy acrobatics and movements.

"Who is your father?" Chrom asked in between harsh, ragged breaths. He still couldn't quite believe that someone with a body frame like Marth could strike with such force and yet remain as mobile as he did.

Marth's expression was cool and neutral. "I think I've said enough for one day, sir," he replied evenly.

Chrom narrowed his eyes. "Hmph. Is that how it is?" he asked, raising Falchion as he took a stance once more.

Again, the masked swordsman chose not to reply and simply raised his blade in a one-handed high guard, aggravating Chrom once again.

"Lissa owes you her life, and for that you have my gratitude," the prince said lowly. "But within these walls, I represent the East-Khan and the interests of Ylisse. I can't promise to stay my blade, but I vow not to shame you."

Marth's lips quirked upward into a mocking smile. "Heh… I never expected such youthful arrogance…" he murmured lightly, clearly amused by something.

Despite himself, Chrom raised an eyebrow. _'What?'_

As quickly as it came, Marth's amused smile was gone, replaced with the masked swordsman's usual frown as he took off into a sprint.

"We shall see who shames who!" he yelled as he launched himself into a leaping thrust at Chrom.

* * *

_'I know I shouldn't be enjoying myself, but I can't help it.'_

Those were the thoughts rushing through Lucina's mind as she leaped at Chrom, her Falchion extended forward as she thrust it right at her opponent. Chrom sidestepped the move, raising his own Falchion to push her own sword out of line as she shot past him. As her feet hit the ground, Lucina could feel Chrom quickly approaching, trying to use the brief opening to deliver a powerful overhead strike.

Already arresting her momentum, Lucina skidded to a stop and, planting her feet, brought her blade up and around in a quick two-handed strike of her own, managing to redirect Chrom's attack before it could reach her and sending his sword angling towards the ground. As Chrom's blade hit the arena floor, Lucina quickly spun and lashed out with Falchion in her right hand, hoping to take advantage of the prince's overextension.

To her surprise, her blade hit nothing but air. Chrom had used his momentum to dive forward into a roll, evading Lucina's attack before rising to his feet and sweeping with his own Falchion, forcing Lucina to leap back outside of his attack range.

A minute smile played across Lucina's lips.

Facing the Prince of Ylisse in a duel left her with a rush that she hadn't felt in such a long time.

He was younger than she had remembered, his features still possessed of all the youthful vigor that had characterized the stories about him that she'd grown up hearing. He was strong, quick, and skilled – just as skilled as he had been in her time, certainly – but he was still lacking the extensive battle experience that had made him such a formidable swordsman in the future, even if his speed had begun to taper off ever so slightly.

While Chrom wasn't a complete greenhorn, given he'd been keeping the domestic peace in Ylisse for a fair amount of time now, it was clear as day to Lucina that his fighting prowess wasn't quite as refined as the man she'd known in her time. His fighting style was still rough around the edges, but perhaps given time, given the events that were going to transpire… he would be able to reach or even surpass the man she remembered from her own time.

_'Events that will _not_ happen if I can help it…!'_

_As if you can do it alone, little girl._

Lucina nearly choked. The voice was whispering again.

_'S-shut up… I won't give in!'_

She renewed her assault on Chrom, striking hard and fast as she attempted to break open her opponent's defenses. The mocking voice continued to merrily probe at her concentration, prompting Lucina to pour more and more strength into striking the ghosts of her past down.

_'Harder…!'_

She battered Chrom's Falchion aside with a vicious blow, her own copy of the blade scraping against the prince's shoulder plate as he barely managed to escape a direct hit from Lucina's follow-up attack.

_'Faster…!'_

Spinning in midair, Lucina struck once, twice within the span of one leap, forcing Chrom to backpedal. Landing in a crouch, Lucina quickly rose and pressed her advantage with a series of quick slashes that came in at Chrom's defenses from just about every angle.

_You're weak… you're mine…_

_'Shut up! I refuse to lose to you! I'm no one's slave – no one's toy!'_

Lucina screamed – whether out of anger or fear, she had no clue – as she brought her sword down in an easily telegraphed attack, one which Chrom had no problems meeting head-on.

The two Falchions clashed once more, the two blades showering their wielders with sparks as metal grinded against metal.

As the two swordsmen pushed against each other and struggled for dominance, Lucina found herself starting to lose ground thanks to Chrom's superior physical strength. Grunting in exertion, she leaned back and struck the Ylissean Prince with a strong headbutt that sent him staggering back, clearly disoriented from the powerful blow as he brought a hand up to his head.

She had been ready to press her advantage, but the sight of blood streaming down from where her mask had cut into Chrom's brow stopped her cold.

_'W-what am I doing…?'_ she thought to herself. The momentary distraction nearly proved to be her undoing, as Chrom somehow found enough bearing to raise Falchion for a powerful overhand strike. Rolling to the side, she managed a quick return blow, but it lacked any of the accuracy and power that she'd displayed earlier in the fight.

Lucina quickly tried to refocus her thoughts, but seeing Chrom's blood coating the right side of his face shattered her composure at every turn, allowing the Prince of Ylisse to take the initiative for the first time the entire duel. As Marth faltered, Chrom seemed to gain in strength and confidence, pressing his newfound advantage hard as he employed the same powerful strikes she'd been using against him mere moments ago.

She hissed in pain as Chrom's Falchion weaved through her defenses and cut into her left arm ever so lightly, leaving a shallow wound running along her bicep. She tried to focus her thoughts on the physical pain she was feeling now, tried to bring her conflicting emotions back under control, but she just couldn't get the glaring, simple fact out of her mind.

She'd drawn blood. She'd drawn _Chrom's_ blood.

_'T-this isn't… I…'_

She wasn't supposed to win this duel.

Her entire purpose for becoming the West-Khan's champion was to ensure that Chrom's confidence in himself as a leader and a swordsman grew, and to ensure that he got the alliance and reinforcements that Ylisse so desperately needed.

Why had it been so easy to forget?

_Because you're weak. You're all alone here. You're _nothing_._

Marth grit her teeth at the voice's answer, trying to fight back tears of frustration as she tried to force a counterattack through an opening. She lashed out with a one-handed horizontal slash, following up with a sequence of diagonal slashes aimed at Chrom's shoulders before raising her blade for a final overhead strike. The prince wove his blade through a series of maneuvers she'd probably seen a hundred times by now, but this time he had no problems repelling her attacks before responding in kind with strikes that she had difficulty parrying and blocking.

_'No! I-I came back here because… because…!'_

The voice laughed at her inability to string an answer together.

Lucina shook her head, trying to keep the voice's mocking words and laughter out of her thoughts at least until she could find a way to end the duel.

She knew that the time for games and enjoyment was over. This whole duel was over. It should have been over from the very beginning, its outcome decided by her before she'd even set foot into the arena and drawn her blade.

The only thing left for her to do was to somehow let Chrom win, and betray the West-Khan's trust.

_Just as you betrayed the trust of so many others…_

Lucina tried not to choke as she parried a diagonal slash from Chrom before returning it with one of her own, the speed and power behind her counterattack sorely lacking.

* * *

Robin frowned as he watched the face of the entire duel shift right before his eyes.

_'That's very odd. Marth's suddenly started fighting _very_ differently… ever since she drew Chrom's blood.'_

His eyes widened.

_'Wait, when did I start thinking of Marth as _she_?'_

The tactician found himself inching forward unconsciously until he was on the edge of his seat. The cheers and jeers from the other Shepherds and from the rest of the crowd were drowned out. As far as Robin was concerned, it could have been completely silent and he wouldn't know the difference.

Everything was tuned out as Robin's attention was given solely to the two swordsmen fighting down in the arena pit.

His eyes watched Marth's every movement, and his ears listened intently, picking out every sound of battle, every shuffle of feet, every clang of steel against steel.

More than that, Robin listened to every sound and cry the masked _swordswoman_ made as she fought.

He could feel the pieces in his mind begin to move together to form the outlines of a picture – one he'd spent the better part of three weeks trying to put together.

* * *

Lucina was wearing out fast.

It wasn't even down to her physical ability, given the fact that she was now consciously holding herself back so much. The voice was growing in strength, and she couldn't tune it out _and_ fend off Chrom's assault at the same time.

_You could never tune me out… not when I speak the truth._

Lucina grit her teeth, unwilling to give it the satisfaction of a reply as she tried to focus on defending herself from Chrom's furious strikes as they rained down on her like a storm while throwing out counters that were easy enough for the man to block without disrupting his offensive rhythm. She was holding on for now, much as Chrom had earlier, but she knew it was only just a matter of time. She just needed to find the proper opportunity to give him the chance to win.

_You can't even beat Chrom. What chance do you think you have against fate itself?_

The simple brutality of the statement stunned Lucina, who stumbled from the shock for a brief moment as her mind tried to wrap itself around it. Her back foot slid as her grip on Falchion slackened, leaving her completely open.

That one lapse was all the opportunity Chrom needed.

The prince's backhand struck Lucina hard across the cheek, sending her sprawling to the ground as Falchion flew from her nerveless fingers. The blow had been incredible, enough to white her vision out for several moments.

Before she could even regain her bearings, she felt a foot press firmly on her abdomen. As her vision cleared, Lucina found Chrom standing over her, his foot pressing down on her stomach as he held Falchion inches away from her neck. Lucina looked to the side, seeing her own weapon lying out of reach of her fingers. A drop of blood dripped from Chrom's face and onto her mask as he regarded her steadily.

"It's over," he said through deep breaths, seemingly unbothered by the red liquid coating half his face. "Yield, Marth. I don't want to take your life."

Lucina closed her eyes for a moment. Chrom was certainly right.

This fight was over.

"Impressive… if not surprising…" Lucina murmured lowly, trying to keep her shaky voice even. "I yield, sir."

_You yielded to the Prince today. Without _him_ by your side, you'll yield to me, too._

Lucina tried not to react outwardly, even as she felt herself grow cold at the statement.

The voice was wrong. It had to be wrong.

… So why was she so afraid of it being true?

* * *

Robin was on his feet as soon as the duel had concluded.

_'She threw that match.'_

There was no mistaking it. The movements had been far too unnatural for it to be anything else. Marth had, to the best of his knowledge, simply held herself back in the latter stages of the duel, throwing away what had at the time looked like an incredibly assured victory.

_'She had Chrom right where she wanted him. The entire duel was in the palm of her hand. So why? Why throw it away?'_

The rest of the Shepherds around him were celebrating, and the entire Feroxi crowd was cheering wildly as the contest finally resolved itself and showed that a change in leadership was on the way.

Unlike the rest of the troop, Robin was in no mood for celebrating right now. What he _was_ in the mood for was asking questions. Weaving his way through their little group and past Sully and Vaike's rambunctious cheering, he made his way out of their private viewing box and into the hallway.

The tactician barely even made it a few steps when the sounds of heavy armor clinking behind him made him stop to hear the words of the only member of the Shepherds who'd notice his disappearance.

"Where are you going?" Frederick's voice called out behind him.

Robin didn't look back. "Something about Marth bothers me, and I need some answers. I'll be back shortly."

"… I see. I shall inform milord if he makes an inquiry as to your whereabouts."

Robin nodded, and without another word took off into a brisk walk, raising his coat's cowl over his head.

* * *

Lucina was silent as she sat in an anteroom just outside the fighting pit, contemplating her actions and what had happened over the course of the duel.

She'd taken her leave almost immediately once Chrom had taken his foot off her stomach, not intending to stick around long enough for him to ask any questions. She wasn't sure if the prince had noticed the similarities between her fighting style and his during their duel, but she certainly wasn't about to find out if he had.

What had been more worrying than being found out, though, was her loss of focus and composure midway through the duel. Had the sight of Chrom's blood really unnerved her so? Or had her recognition of her inability to control her own actions been her undoing in the end?

"Am I actually… that weak…?" she asked herself lowly, looking at her reflection on Falchion's blade as she balanced it over her thighs. Chrom's blood still stained one side of her mask from when she'd butted heads with him, some of it trailing down to leave streaks across her face. Her hand went up to her cheek, fingers tenderly brushing over the angry welt that was marring the pale skin of her cheek where Chrom had struck her with his fist.

_Of course you're weak. Without him, you're nothing._

"Shut up… I'm not weak!" Lucina ground out through clenched teeth as she tried to tune the voice out. Every time a reminder of the past – her past – came up, it was always there, always laughing, always dredging up images of nightmares she'd rather lock away in the deepest and darkest recesses of her mind and heart to be forgotten.

_You are. You just don't want to admit it._

"I'm not!" Lucina replied, her voice strained and a little less modulated than she would have liked.

The voice laughed as it revelled in the masked girl's conflicted emotions. However, before Lucina could even bite out a response, a new voice from outside cut in, dispelling the dark atmosphere that had shrouded her mind and consciousness.

"Ah, you're still here," the new arrival said, his words jolting Lucina out of her thoughts and bringing her back to reality. The voice quieted, retreating to the darkness as quickly as it had come.

The masked girl cursed her inattentiveness as she sprung to her feet, Falchion instantly in hand and pointed at the entryway that led out from her anteroom into the rest of the arena.

"Who are you? Show yourself!" she called out, trying to keep her voice steady and low even as it threatened to betray the image she'd strained to keep up ever since returning to this time.

Lucina watched intently as a hooded man slipped in through the doorway, revealing himself to be wearing a familiar purple coat with gold trim.

_'A Plegian coat… could it be the tactician? What is he doing here?'_

The man's hands moved up to his cowl, slowly as not to startle Lucina, and lowered it, revealing all-too-familiar features and confirming Lucina's suspicions.

"It's you… Sir Tactician," she said lowly, acknowledging the presence of the white-haired man she'd fought alongside – and subsequently saved – weeks ago in Southern Ylisse.

Said tactician nodded, hands held away from his sides as if to say he meant no harm. He regarded Lucina steadily, his hazel eyes boring into her almost as if they could see through her mask. Lucina had to resist the urge to lift a hand up to check that her mask was still on.

"Indeed," he said in reply, tone light. "I'd appreciate if you at least referred to me by name, though. You don't see me calling you 'Sir Mask', do you?"

Lucina frowned as she sheathed her sword, using the time to think things over. What sort of game was he trying to play here? On one hand, she was still suspicious of the tactician… but, on the other, her instincts were telling her that the white-haired man was a genuine person whose regular personality was a far-cry from what most would expect from someone in his profession.

Ultimately, she decided to play along with him for now and see where things went.

"Very well, then… Sir Robin," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "What do you want?"

Robin raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's interesting. I don't recall ever mentioning my name to you."

Lucina's eyes widened as she felt her blood go cold. Her hand instantly flew to Falchion sheathed at her hip.

_'Wait, wha- oh, Naga…'_

She cursed as she realized her slip-up. She'd forgotten that the white-haired tactician hadn't once mentioned his name to her at any point. He was suddenly smiling – oh, gods, she wanted to wipe that smile off of his face – as if to say she'd walked right into a trap.

"W-well, I heard your companions calling your name out back in the forest," she said quickly, mind racing as she struggled to come up with a cover story. "I remembered your name from there."

The man's smile turned into a frown as his brows furrowed in thought.

Lucina held her breath, hoping against hope Robin would buy her hastily-concocted story. It was partially true, of course, but she'd already known his name from long before, and she'd rather keep questions about that from coming up at this point in time.

Robin shrugged easily. "Well, I guess they _did_ yell out my name a couple of points in time," he said lightly, although something in those sharp, hazel eyes of his told her that he wasn't quite buying it. "That aside, I just came to ask a question or two, if you'd be willing to humor me."

Lucina's eyes narrowed from behind her mask. "You may ask it, but whether I give you an answer or not is my decision alone."

The corner of the tactician's mouth quirked upwards. "Heh. I expected as much, given that Chrom couldn't get answers out of you back there, either."

Lucina frowned. _'He heard us over the crowd and the sounds of our fighting?'_

There's no way he could be serious about that… could he?

"Well, thankfully for the both of us it's a simple question…" he said, his voice trailing off as if he were unsure about whether to continue.

Robin looked away, seeming to consider his words for a moment, which made Lucina feel just the slightest bit of unease.

What was the tactician going to ask that he would have second thoughts when he was already here right in front of her? The man was usually prepared for what he needed to say, after all.

Finally, Robin turned to face her fully once more.

"Why did you throw that duel?" he asked quietly.

Lucina froze at the accusation. _'What?'_

Robin sighed. "I see. So I wasn't imagining it. You _did_ throw that fight."

The masked girl gripped hard on the hilt of her sword. "What makes you think that, Sir Robin?" she asked, barely keeping her voice from cracking. In spite of herself,

Robin shook his head. "The way you fought," he answered. "You were incredible during the first half, maybe two-thirds of the duel. You had Chrom right where you wanted him. You mostly matched him for power, and you had a decisive edge in speed and mobility that he couldn't overcome. I don't think I've ever seen a difference in skill that big in my life." He thought it over for a moment before chuckling to himself. "Then again, I've not been alive for very long, given the little memory problem I have."

He turned now to look at Lucina, his eyes searching for her own even through her mask. "And that brings me to the remainder of the duel. After your headbutt drew blood from Chrom, it seemed like something in you changed completely. At first, I originally thought you might have simply been disoriented yourself, but it quickly became apparent to me that you were physically fine. No, it was a mental thing. It was as if some realization or other made you incapable of fighting as you had before…"

Lucina sucked in a sharp breath. Robin was sharp – extraordinarily so. She'd thought she'd been able to at least hide most outward signs of her loss of composure, but apparently nothing had been able to escape Robin's observation skills.

"I just want to know why you did what you did, Marth."

Lucina swallowed. The temptation to tell someone everything was real. She wanted to – she wanted to very badly. Carrying the burden alone was too much for her, but…

He couldn't know. No one could. Not yet – maybe even not ever.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I can't tell you anything."

Robin nodded, almost as if in understanding.

"I see," was his simple reply.

Lucina tried not to fidget under his observant, eagle-eyed gaze. She had to get away now before she divulged any information that could bring abut consequences.

"I… I must go. Please, excuse me," she said hurriedly.

Without so much as waiting for the tactician's reply or acquiescence, Lucina hurried past him and towards the anteroom's entryway.

_'Quickly, quickly…'_

"Marth," Robin called out. "One more thing, before you go."

Against her better judgement, and with every instinct screaming at her not to do it, Lucina stopped walking and turned halfway to look at the tactician out of the corner of her eye. The man had turned to face her, his expression as cool, calm, and collected as it had been since he'd arrived.

"Yes?"

Robin paused for a moment, and again Lucina felt uncertainty settle in her gut like a block of ice.

"You're… not really the Hero-King, are you…?" he asked. "In fact, you're not even a _he_. Am I right?"

Lucina gasped in surprise, unable in the slightest to keep it from sounding girlish. It didn't matter whether she had been able to or not, though.

He knew. _He knew_.

She tried to grip Falchion's hilt, but for some reason it felt like all her strength had left her hand as her fingers clumsily fumbled for the weapon. It almost felt as if she no longer had the nerves to move them.

_'What else does he know? Has he already figured out who I am?'_ she thought in a panic, her mind imagining all the worst-case scenarios. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably, her breath was growing quicker and shallower, and her heart was pounding in her ears. _'What if Chrom finds out? What if – oh, gods, have I made a mistake in doing all this?'_

She had been so caught up in her thoughts that it took her a few moments to realize that Robin had closed the distance to her, his hands holding onto her shoulders with a firm but gentle grip.

"Hey, easy there," Robin said, trying to calm her down. "I don't know why you've chosen to hide your identity, your gender, and even your face, but I don't think you hold any ill will towards anyone." He gave her a smile, trying to reassure her. "I'll keep your secret; it's not mine to tell, and I'm sure you've good reasons for hiding it. You can trust me, Marth. I promise."

Could she, though? Lucina wondered if she really _could_ trust the man she knew so little about.

More importantly, could she even trust _herself_ as she was right now?

_'I have to get away,'_ Lucina reasoned. She couldn't risk any more information coming out, especially not to someone who was so close to Chrom. _'I just have to get away.'_

Wiggling out of Robin's grip, she turned her back on the white-haired tactician.

"I-I'm sorry. I can't say any more," she said, not even bothering to try and change her voice's pitch. Robin had her all figured out. What was the point in trying to hide it from him? "P-please, excuse me."

Lucina fled from the anteroom, the voice in her mind laughing at her all the way.

She did not look back.

* * *

After the duel's conclusion, Chrom had been led back to a small sitting room at the top floor of Arena Ferox. As other duels began to determine the other ranks in the hierarchy of the Feroxi leadership, the victorious Prince of Ylisse now found himself awaiting the arrival of the newly inducted Khan-Regnant who would now be able to give him what he most needed.

Lissa and Frederick had already been waiting for him in the room by the time he arrived, with Lissa immediately getting her older brother to sit down so she could tend to his injuries while Frederick let him know that Robin was taking care of some business. The prince idly wondered what it was that Robin needed to do, but pushed it from his mind – he'd just ask him later.

As his younger sister worked on him, Chrom took a moment to admire the décor that gave the room a decidedly homey feel. It wasn't as extravagant as the waiting hall where Khan Flavia had received them, but it certainly still had that cozy feel that he'd come to associate with Ferox, with furs being used as carpets and bench padding while wrought iron braziers crackled happily and provided warmth and light to the chamber's interior.

He winced, almost flinching when he felt a sting of pain as Lissa touched his forehead wound.

"Hold still, Chrom," Lissa chided as she dabbed a cloth over his brow, trying to clean the blood out before applying some medicine to the cut. While using a staff would have fixed the wound without much problem, they had the opportunity to allow the wound to heal naturally, so it was better not to unnecessarily use up any more of her staff charges before they got back to Ylisstol.

"I know you want to look around, but this wound isn't going to clean itself."

The prince grumbled, but tried to keep still as Lissa worked. It wasn't long, however, before the door to his right opened.

"I admit that your fighting style surprised me, Prince Chrom," a voice called out, prompting Chrom to turn and Lissa to make a noise of complaint as the vulnerary she'd been applying to his cut smeared slightly. "I would not have expected one from Ylisse to be capable of fighting so quite like a Feroxi. You don't have too many of the theatrics or flashy moves I've come to expect from Ylisseans."

Khan Flavia strode in, a wide smile on her face, with Captain Raimi once again right behind her.

"Many nobles from Ylisse may choose to engage in pointless showboating, Your Grace, but I've never had much patience for them," Chrom replied honestly as Flavia took a seat on the bench directly across his own. "It holds true now, especially, when Ylisse is in a dire situation and I need to bring results back home as quickly as possible."

Flavia grinned wolfishly. "Hah! Well spoken," she commented, chuckling as Lissa continued to fuss over the Ylissean Prince. "And well fought, as well! You've more than earned my respect, Princeling, and not many can say that they have. More importantly, however, you will have your alliance. Regna Ferox will provide Ylisse with the assistance that she needs, and you can be assured that I will personally lead the effort."

Chrom nodded, breathing a huge sigh of relief at the news.

"Truly? You have my heartfelt thanks, Khan-Regnant," Chrom said as he clasped wrists with Flavia once more.

The newly-inducted Khan-Regnant laughed. "Oh, you have it backwards. It should be me thanking you!" she proclaimed as she stood. "It's felt like forever since I last held full power! Come, my new friends! Tonight, we celebrate, and we celebrate the Feroxi way!"

Before Chrom could even get a word in, Flavia had already stood and swept back out the room, barking out orders for a feast to be prepared.

"Bah!" a gruff voice rumbled from behind Chrom. "Any excuse for a party where she can get drunk and Flavia jumps on it."

The prince of Ylisse turned to see Robin's imagined description of the Khan come to life – an absolute giant of a man clad in gold armor that covered arms, shoulders, waist, and legs while leaving most of his muscled chest exposed was leaning up against the doorway. The bald-headed, dark-skinned man was gazing at them with his one appraising eye, the other covered by an eyepatch that didn't quite hide the frown marring his chiselled features.

Chrom frowned. "I'm sorry," he said, unable to keep the hint of sarcasm from his tone. "Have we met?"

The giant of a man stepped forward. "I'm the West-Khan you so rudely removed from power, boy!" he exclaimed loudly, before continuing in a more modulated voice. "You're quite handy with a sword, lad – definitely skilled for someone as young as you are. And to think I'd finally gotten my chambers exactly as I'd liked them…"

The hard look on his face dropped to be replaced with a jovial grin.

"But, that's not such a bad thing. I'm quick to forgive and forget! Now that those advisers and hangers-on will be pestering Flavia instead of me every step of the way for the next few years, maybe I can go live and let live some before reclaiming my throne!" he said animatedly, letting out a boisterous laugh as he extended a hand. "I am Basilio the Mighty, West-Khan of Regna Ferox. I am honoured to meet a man of your strength, Prince Chrom of Ylisse."

Chrom clasped the man's wrist as he did with Flavia's, and the prince couldn't help but like the West-Khan. Basilio had a natural strength and vitality, much like Khan Flavia, and a penchant for being quite loud and boisterous. Perhaps it was down to the Feroxi culture that led to him being like that. Basilio's features seemed a little rougher, more aged, than Flavia's, but he still possessed a vigor that Chrom thought would be more suited to coming from men much younger than the West-Khan, and he was sure that his unique combination of experience and strength made him a very formidable warrior and leader.

"That said," Basilio commented as they released hands. "I was sure I'd picked the stronger man. I was definitely surprised when you emerged victorious."

Chrom furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you know about the man I fought, Khan Basilio?"

"Who, you mean that 'Marth'?" the Khan snorted. "He's nothing more than a sellsword with delusions of grandeur, or that's what he's been telling me and anyone who'll ask, anyways. I think there's a lot more to the kid than meets the eye, that's for sure. All I know for certain is that he turned up one day and knocked my old champion flat on his arse. It was love at first sight, and I'm usually too old for such things!"

The West-Khan roared with laughter for a few moments before growing serious once more.

"Anyway, I've no idea where he is right now. Just up and disappeared the moment the duel ended." He shrugged. "Could be in the quarters I loaned to him, could have hightailed it out of here already. Nobody really knows with him."

Chrom nodded, processing the information as Lissa sighed.

"He's so dark and mysterious…" she said dreamily.

"Sounds like Marth's got at least one fan," came Robin's voice as the tactician entered the room from the same door Flavia had entered and left through.

Chrom raised an eyebrow. "Robin. Where in damnation have you been?" he asked.

Robin shrugged. "Tried to find Marth and get some answers. I… wasn't too successful, unfortunately."

Chrom sighed. "That's a shame. I think we'd all want to know a bit more about him. Even if I think Lissa's reasoning isn't quite on the same page as the rest of us."

Lissa flushed lightly. "H-hey! I mean, c'mon…" she stammered out in protest. "He _is_ kind of dreamy, isn't he?"

"I'm afraid I wouldn't know, milady," Frederick deadpanned.

Chrom's eyebrows furrowed. "And I think _you're_ kind of dreaming," he snapped, earning a glare from Lissa and another booming laugh from Basilio.

Lissa's hands went up in mock-surrender. "Yeesh! Sorry for being human and a girl, Big Brother. I _am_ at that age, you know."

Before the siblings could begin arguing, Frederick coughed to gain their attention.

"Milord? Milady? As fascinating as this discussion is, perhaps we'd best be preparing to return home?" the knight suggested. "The Exalt would no doubt appreciate news of this alliance as soon as possible."

Chrom nodded. "Right as always, Frederick."

"But you'll be missing the great feast I have no doubts Flavia is already planning!" Basilio said in mock surprise.

"He's right, Frederick!" Lissa said as she ran towards the door and turned to face them, arms spread wide to bar them from entering or exiting. "You've already deprived me of one feast, and look what sort of trouble that got us in! As your princess, I order you to _not_ deprive me of another!"

Basilio chuckled. "She's certainly got spirit, I'll give her that," he said. "Besides, we've already sent one of our fastest messengers to Ylisstol. He should be there long before you even cross the border, even if you left now."

Robin nodded. "I agree, I think we should take them up on the offer. Morale will suffer if we leave immediately," he said. "We've barely just arrived, and we've no urgent reason to leave if Ferox has already dispatched a messenger to the capital. It would do everyone some good if we got some downtime before leaving."

Seemingly swayed, Chrom sighed.

"Well… I guess we could stay a day or two before leaving…" Chrom muttered uncertainly.

The West-Khan grinned as he cracked his knuckles.

"Excellent," he said. "Well, then, let's go fetch the rest of your motley crew so we can set you all up in some proper lodgings for your stay."

* * *

Location: Khan's Palace, Grand Hall

Flavia certainly did not disappoint.

The feast she'd planned was held in the Grand Hall reserved for use by the Khan-Regent as part of his or her personal quarters or when he or she was receiving important dignitaries. While Basilio was still technically in charge, Flavia – as the winner of the Khan's tournament – was well within her rights to use the hall for special occasions – occasions like this one. It was decorated with the height of Feroxi finery – high-quality pelts and woods were used for the furniture and décor, while the finest metals were used for the braziers that provided light and warmth for the hall's interior. Off to the side was a massive personal armory with an assortment of training gear and actual weapons and even a personal smithy.

All in all, it was something fit for the private quarters of the leader of a warrior nation such as Regna Ferox.

"Welcome to my humble abode!" Basilio had said, performing a mock bow as he led the Shepherds into the hall. "Well, my abode until Flavia officially takes the reins of power in a few days. Once she moves in, my abode is wherever all my junk happens to land!"

The West-Khan had then laughed loudly before corralling the Shepherds towards tables upon tables of food and drink…

Which is what led to the situation Robin currently found himself in.

Flavia sat at the head table with Basilio and Chrom, the Khans having convinced the Prince of Ylisse to drink with them while they regaled him with tales of past campaigns. At the next table, Sumia was making a not-so-subtle attempt to look after Chrom even as she picked at her meal.

_'Oh, Sumia…'_ he thought, smiling to himself. _'If only the both of you weren't so blind, you'd have realized it by now…'_

Meanwhile, Virion was – in typical Virion fashion – attempting to woo every serving girl who passed him by, while Vaike and Sully were engaged in a drunken arm-wrestling contest that Sully was clearly winning. Finally, since Frederick was keeping Lissa from the alcohol, the princess contented herself with gorging herself on the platters of food along with Stahl, who hadn't slowed any in his eating since the party had started.

He sighed as he sipped at his drink, some sort of Feroxi ale, before washing it down with another gulp of water. Whatever the Feroxi put into their alcohol certainly gave it one amazing kick, one that Robin doubted he could down without some water in between.

_'How they can drink this stuff, I'll never know…'_

Robin turned away from the goings-on of the party, his thoughts wandering back to a certain masked swordswoman. Marth had been in his mind ever since the duel – ever since the forest, in fact. Of course, when tactics were needed thoughts of her took a backseat, but in his idle time she would always be there at some point. He couldn't help but wonder as to her origins, her motivations. He wanted to know what drove her to do what she did.

The sound of a chair being pulled brought Robin out of his thoughts, and he turned to see Basilio flop into the seat right across his own.

"Something on your mind, Tactician Robin?" the West-Khan asked, setting a bottle of liquor down on the table. They'd been introduced by Chrom after a rather embarrassing affair in which Robin had bluntly asked the larger man who he was and had then been told that Basilio was the very man Robin had ended up describing before their meeting with Khan Flavia. Needless to say, the tactician had been horrified to realize that his descriptions had _actually_ been spot on.

Robin shrugged lightly. "Well… just the one," he said, sipping at his ale again. "But it's a long story, so… not sure if you'd want to hear it."

Basilio chuckled before taking a swig from his bottle. "I've seen many a young, promising man in my time," he said. "But none with eyes quite as sharp and deep as yours. Tell me about it, lad. I want to know what goes on in the mind hidden behind those eyes."

The tactician contemplated the offer for a moment, but realized that he couldn't talk when all he had was nothing but conjecture.

_'Hell, what good will it do to keep it to myself? I can trust Basilio, surely.'_

Before he knew it, he was talking. Robin talked about how he met Marth, his initial reads on her, his observations and the conclusions he's made over time… he talked for quite some time, and Basilio listened the entire time, only stopping Robin to ask for clarification at some point or another.

By the end of it all, the West-Khan himself looked to be in fairly deep contemplation as he gazed thoughtfully at a spot on the table.

"Hmm… I admit I had my own suspicions about the way Marth was acting… his – her – behaviour was _very_ strange…" he finally said, looking up to look Robin in the eye. "Did you know that he – she – actually asked for the same thing your Prince did from Flavia? Even in the event Marth won and you had to come to speak with me, I was certainly willing to form that alliance with Ylisse. It was a win-win situation for you."

Robin raised his eyebrows. "I didn't know, actually," he replied. "… Wait, hold on. You said she wanted the same thing we did?"

Basilio nodded. "Aye, she most certainly did," he replied, before leaning in closer. "Tell me, lad. Can we – and, by we, I mean all of us Ylisseans and Feroxi – trust Marth?"

The tactician contemplated the question. Could they? It was a difficult question to ask when the subject was one who played her cards so close to her chest.

Eventually, he blew a breath out. "I think… we can," he said slowly. "She may be a hard read, but I don't think her intentions are bad. I've been observing her as much as I can, and I think that she holds no ill will towards us. While she hasn't exactly been forthcoming with information, I think there's a good reason she's trying not to say much about where she comes from and why she's doing what she's doing."

The West-Khan leaned back and sighed deeply. "Well, this conversation certainly was _not_ what I was expecting when I sat down with you, lad," he said, letting out a deep laugh. "But it confirmed my suspicions about you. You're every bit the keen observer I thought you were. You're sharp, analytical, and quick to think on your feet… all fine qualities to have in a tactician."

Basilio crossed his arms regarded the white-haired tactician steadily. "That said, out with it, boy," he said. "I know you have something you want to ask me. You've been glancing at me for most of the evening, and I doubt it's because you're enamored by my rugged good looks."

Robin leaned forward. "As a matter of fact, I do, indeed," he said, resting his chin on his hands. "Can you tell me where Marth's quarters are? I'd like to be able to talk to her if she's still around."

"Oh? And why is that?" Basilio asked. "You said it yourself, she hasn't exactly been forthcoming or generous with information."

"I think I can get through to her," Robin replied. "If I can show to her that she can trust me, then maybe…"

The West-Khan laughed. "Alright, lad, you've made your case. I can see you're set on this, so let old Basilio help you out."

As Basilio began to outline directions on how to get to the quarters he'd set Marth up in, Robin could only hope that Marth was still there.

For some reason, his instincts were telling him that Marth was the key to _everything_.


	7. Chapter Five - A Night of Trust

**Author's Note: Well, okay, for some reason I can't seem to pull out chapters as quickly as I used to before. Might be due to my illness, but I was also admittedly rather busy during the last month.  
**

**Anyways, I won't bore you with too many details about my personal life, I doubt most of you don't really care for it, but there's just one important bit I want to mention below.**

**IMPORTANT! - "Marth" is now referred to as "Lucina" in all scenes where she is the focus character (i.e. she is the main perspective from which the story is being told). All scenes in previous chapters have been edited to reflect this change. However, all scenes where other characters are the focus characters (Chrom, Robin) will still have her be referred to as "Marth".**

**As usual, thoughts, feedback, questions, clarifications, and discussions are welcomed in reviews, with further follow-ups to be done through PMs once I reply.**

**Once again, thank you for your patience and support, and do enjoy this chapter, which is mostly original content not present in the game. Naga be with you!**

* * *

_**Chapter Five – A Night of Trust**_

Location: Khan's Palace, West Wing

Lucina blew out a breath as she sank into a seat, finally able to release some of the tension in her body now that she was alone and away from prying eyes. She'd retreated to the quarters Khan Basilio had provided for her immediately after the Ylissean tactician Robin had confronted her over her throwing the duel with Chrom.

She'd tried her best not to show it, but the white-haired man unnerved her. She'd felt his eyes on her ever since their first meeting back in the forest in Southern Ylisse, and ever since then those quiet, hazel eyes seemed to unravel her more and more.

Unclasping her butterfly-shaped mask and removing it from her face, Lucina's fingers roamed over the smooth metal of her one saving grace, tracing every ridge and gilded design as she admired the care and craftsmanship that had gone into its creation. She wavered when her fingers ran over where Chrom's dried blood still stained her mask's deep blue metal, but she swallowed against the bile that was threatening to rise against her throat.

Lucina had considered washing the blood off, but after some thought decided to keep the stains as a reminder, that this was the result of her actions and her inability to control herself – she had to live with it and learn if she wanted to succeed in her mission.

"Am I truly… unable to do anything…?" she whispered to herself. "Am I really so weak… if I don't have you with me…?"

The young girl gazed intently at her mask, wondering how something so small could feel as if it held all the weight of the world. It didn't quite feel so heavy when she had it covering her face, but, now that she had taken it off, the mask felt infinitely heavier, almost as if it had taken on the weight of her burdens.

_'Maybe it's not just hiding my identity… maybe… it's hiding my own weakness…'_

Lucina let out a breath, suddenly feeling incredibly tired as a heavy weight settled on her body. She tried to fight against it – she'd functioned with the barest minimum of sleep before, so why was she unable to do so now? – tried not to acknowledge the exhaustion that had crept up on her after weeks of minimal, restless sleep, but in those few moments that couldn't have been any more than a few seconds yet felt like an eternity to her sleep-addled mind she found her control slipping, her consciousness ebbing away towards the inviting lure of sleep.

Everything around Lucina was a fuzzy blur; she was tired enough that she was barely able to recognize anything beyond her body's burning need for rest. Her mind briefly seemed to scream something about needing to keep her guard up – that she had no allies she could trust right now – but the haze surrounding her mind had already settled, disallowing any sort of coherent thought to form and leaving her prey to the call of her body's needs.

"Can't… e-even… for just… a moment…" she slurred tiredly, instinctively recognizing what her mind had been trying to say and repeating it to herself as a mantra, but even to her own ears she seemed most unconvincing as her words were devoid of any strength or conviction. The decision to give into her pursuer had already been made long before she'd tried to resist.

The mask slipped from nerveless fingers as the cerulean-haired girl's eyes slowly drooped closed, her consciousness surrendering itself to sweet, temporary oblivion before the metal accessory that had become her sanctuary could even hit the ground.

* * *

Robin walked quickly through the halls of the Khan's Palace, already wondering what he'd say to Marth if she was indeed still here in Arena Ferox. He'd managed to slip out unnoticed from the party with Basilio's aid, something Robin was grateful for as he'd rather avoid answering questions about where he was going.

_'Even if some of them _are_ more than a little drunk…'_

That said, the white-haired tactician had been surprised that the West-Khan was generous enough to provide him with all this help in addition to what he'd quickly realized were _very_ specific directions to Marth's quarters. The Khan had even given him a guide to ensure he wouldn't be stopped by anyone on his way to his destination.

When questioned as to why he was being so helpful, Basilio had simply laughed it off.

"Lad, you're party to visiting royalty. It's only right I also be a good host to those the boy has brought along with him," he said, jerking his head in Chrom's direction at the mention of 'boy'. "That… and I'm rather curious about Marth, myself. I've lived a fairly long time – an old man like me can't resist being just a little bit inquisitive about things or people I've next to no idea about."

Basilio then grinned. "Besides, you look like the sort to get an idea in his head and see it through no matter what!" he said. "Best to see how it plays out, if you ask me. The boy's told me you've not led him and his bunch of misfits astray just yet, so I'd like to see for myself where you and your crazy ideas take us!"

The West-Khan had laughed boisterously after that before sending the tactician on his way.

Robin smiled; the West-Khan was the type of unorthodox leader that he couldn't help but appreciate and like. It wasn't often that people in the bigger man's position were able to hold so true to their personalities in spite of the pressures that their station placed on their shoulders.

_'I wonder if I'd change if I ever had to be a leader in charge of so many other lives…'_

Robin shook his head. He'd cross that bridge when he got there.

He turned his attention to his guide, a stern-faced man of fair complexion and messy dark hair who seemed to perpetually be on his guard. Robin failed to recognize the clearly foreign design on the other man's blue robe, but the leather armor on the man's shoulders and the fur lining his robe's sleeves and the tops of his leather boots were standard Feroxi fare. What really had the tactician's attention, however, was the unusual sword hanging on the man's belt – a slim, curved blade, if its scabbard was anything to go by.

_'He certainly doesn't seem like a Feroxi… and he's not exactly what I'd expect of a Ylissean or Plegian, either…'_

"Is there a problem?" the man asked gruffly without turning to look back at the tactician following him, his voice cutting into the tactician's thoughts.

Robin almost jumped into the air, not having expected the sudden question from out of nowhere. The man's voice was deep and a little rough, and it took Robin a moment to realize it was actually the first time he'd heard him speak the entire walk.

"N-no," he replied. "Nothing's wrong."

The other man scoffed. "Hmph. You've been staring at my back for a while." He turned to glare at Robin out of the corner of one eye. "Looking for an opportunity to kill me, perhaps?"

Robin frowned. "I wouldn't dream of it," he replied. "I'm just… curious about your coat and your sword. They're not like anything else I've seen."

The swordsman's frown deepened, if that was even possible, as he simply continued to glare at the white-haired tactician. After a moment or two where the dark-haired man looked to be contemplating the tactician's untimely demise, he simply turned and began walking again. Robin, stunned at the development, could only watch stupidly as his guide left him behind.

After a few steps, the man noticed that his charge wasn't following him and turned back.

"Are you coming or not?" he asked impatiently, again snapping Robin out of his stupor.

"Ah, s-sorry!" the tactician replied in apology, quickly jogging to catch up to the swordsman.

Robin couldn't help but cringe internally. The other man's intensity was simply terrifying and awe-inspiring all at once. When paired with the fact he remained silent more often than not, it made him a rather intimidating figure – more intimidating than even Basilio, though Robin surmised that Basilio could be equally terrifying when the man decided to drop all his joviality and thirst for life.

The pair simply continued to walk through the halls, their echoing footsteps the only sounds to be heard until Robin's guide spoke up again.

"They're from my homeland – a nation in the continent to the West," the swordsman said out of the blue.

Robin held a slightly confused expression for a brief moment, before realization dawned on him that the swordsman was humouring his curiosity. Before he could say anything else, though, the swordsman glanced sharply his way.

"That's all I'm going to say, so you can save whatever you were about to say next," the swordsman added. "I'm here to do as I was ordered, not to chit-chat with you."

Robin's mouth snapped shut, and he followed along lest he anger the swordsman serving as his guide.

He would have been content to remain silent, but a thought that occurred to him kept him from holding his tongue. "I'm amazed you're not the least bit curious about anything."

"I only need to do as the West-Khan orders," the swordsman replied curtly. "You can spare me the details of your rendezvous. I care not for them."

The tactician barely managed to keep his dignity and not splutter outright at the other man's reply.

_'Rendezvous?! What the hell does he think I'm trying to do here?!'_

In spite of his embarrassment, Robin quickly realized that anything he said wouldn't do much, as the swordsman clearly had no desire to engage in any form of conversation. Sighing inaudibly, the tactician contented himself to follow the swordsman in silence, observing his surroundings while mentally mapping out their route in his head and ensuring that it matched Basilio's directions.

Robin was so absorbed in what he was doing that he very nearly bumped into the swordsman when the latter halted without warning. Looking around the swordsman, Robin found that he'd been led into an apartment complex in the residential wing of the palace.

"Straight ahead," the man said. "Third door on the left. You'll find your quarry there."

Robin sighed. "For the last time, Marth isn't – look, you know what? Never mind. You can think what you… like…"

The tactician trailed off as he realized the man was already walking away without another word, clearly not interested in whatever happened or whatever else Robin might have had to say.

_'Well, thanks for the help, I guess.'_

Shaking his head as he turned, Robin decided it would be better if he didn't let the swordsman's personality bother him. He couldn't afford to be distracted by something like that if he was going to try and get Marth to open up to him.

As Robin walked up to the door that the swordsman had pointed out, he grew a little apprehensive as he imagined the different ways the scenario could play out.

Would Marth hear him out? Or was he going to just get booted out without even being able to get a word in? Hell, would Marth even draw her sword and try to kill him?

For that matter, was Marth even there?

Robin sighed and shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, before fixating his gaze on the door before him. It loomed over the tactician, a seemingly-harmless construct of wooden planks and metal bars that seemed much larger than it should have been.

_'Look at yourself, Robin. You're already worked up just because your imagination's running wild.'_

Robin raised a hand, knocking twice on the hard wood.

"Marth! Are you there?"

Silence answered him, making Robin wonder if the masked girl was even here.

"Marth? Could I have a word, if you're there?" he called out again, still getting no reply.

Robin made to rear his hand back to repeat the motion, but he froze mid-knock as his ears picked up what appeared to be murmurs from inside the room.

_'What…?'_

Curious and wondering if he'd simply been imagining things, Robin leaned in close and pressed the side of his head to the door to try and hear better. It was silent for a moment, his breathing the only sound that could be heard, but then the murmurs started again.

_"No… I-I'm not… yours… please… h-help me…"_

Robin frowned at the broken phrases he could hear through the heavy wood.

_'That… sounds like Marth… but…'_

The voice that he could hear from the other side of the door was Marth's murmurs – simply comparing it to the times he remembered the masked girl speaking to them would let him know that it was hers, even if she'd been changing her tone to sound more masculine – but it was decidedly more feminine-sounding than he'd ever remembered it, with a distinctly higher pitch and a softer quality to it that made him realize that Marth was _young_.

Robin tried knocking on the door once again, but for whatever reason Marth seemed unable to hear the sound. Furrowing his brow, the tactician gave the door a push, testing to see if it was unlocked.

To his great surprise, the door gave slightly, opening just the tiniest crack.

_'She didn't lock it…'_

Mind racing for an explanation as to why the secretive Marth would have forgotten something as obvious as locking the door, Robin nevertheless decided that trying to figure out the reason for her odd behaviour could wait. As it is, there were just too many unanswered questions that he needed to resolve right now.

Steeling himself, the tactician pushed the door open, quickly slipping in and shutting it behind him. Looking around, Robin found himself in a medium-sized room that was well-furnished room not dissimilar to the one that Khan Flavia had set him up in – a medium-sized bed, a desk for writing, a shelf for keeping belongings, and a lit brazier for light and warmth. The curtains covering the solitary window fluttered lightly from the evening breeze, and Robin nearly made to close it before he heard more murmurs coming from his right.

Turning, Robin spotted what – or rather _who_ – he was looking for when he'd come here. Marth was slumped in a chair, clearly having fallen asleep for one reason or another. However, more importantly, she wasn't wearing her mask, allowing Robin to actually see her face in its entirety for the first time.

_'She's… beautiful…'_ Robin found himself thinking as he took in the sight Marth's sleeping face. Her features were soft, delicate, and youthful, and now that she was unmasked it had become painfully obvious to the white-haired tactician just how _young_ Marth really was – she was barely into her adolescence, the tenderness of her youth exemplified by the innocence of her sleeping expression now that it was devoid of her usual frown.

Even the welt on her cheek from where Chrom had struck her during the duel did nothing to detract from her beauty.

However, while Marth's frown was absent, a grimace _did_ warp her features quite often, and every time it did Robin could only imagine what she was seeing in her dreams. Judging by her expression, though, her dreams were anything _but_ peaceful or comfortable.

_'She's probably suffering from nightmares, more like…'_ Robin thought to himself. Seeing the dark rings beneath her closed eyes standing out against her pallid countenance that he quickly realized was far too pale to be natural made him even begin to wonder how often she was able to get a decent night's sleep – if she even got it at all. Everything just pointed to what he was seeing now being the norm rather than the exception.

_'Poor girl…'_

The cerulean-haired began to shift uncomfortably, her brow furrowing as her expression became more agitated. Robin winced, already beginning to consider trying to wake her from the images that were haunting her in her sleep.

"N-no… don't… s-stay away… s-stop…!" she whispered, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes and wetting her lashes. The sight of Marth's tears and her clear mental and emotional discomfort quickly erased what little doubts Robin was still harbouring within him.

That was the line. It was too much for him to simply let her remain in such a state. He just couldn't sit around and do nothing anymore.

After a moment's hesitation in which he briefly wondered whether he really should be doing this or not, Robin reached out for Marth with a gloved hand.

* * *

_Lucina ran. She had no idea where she was going, but she ran through the twists and turns of the serpentine labyrinth like her life depended on it. Darkness swamped her surroundings, tendrils looking almost as if they were trying to reach for her as she ran. Her eyes barely made out her surroundings through the darkness that clouded her vision like a heavy miasma, her only source of light being the few torches that dimly illuminated a path for her to follow._

_The cerulean-haired girl's heart pounded against her rib cage, almost feeling like the war drums of an army in her chest and ears as she willed her burning limbs to continue moving even as they screamed in protest. The walls seemed to close in on her from every direction, suffocating her and making it even harder to breathe than it already was._

_Lucina risked a look back over her shoulder as she ran, her eyes wild and panicked as she sought out what she could not see but which she knew for certain was there. The torches were extinguished as she passed them by, swallowed up by the encroaching darkness that consumed everything in its pursuit of the cerulean-haired girl._

_If she couldn't keep running, it would take her, too, and…_

_Mocking laughter echoed all around the cerulean-haired girl, making her heart pump painfully as her expression quickly morphed into one of fear._

'You're already mine, dear heart,'_ the voice said. _'You just don't know it.'

_"No, I'm not yours!" she yelled back to the darkness surrounding her as she ran._

_The voice followed after Lucina, furthering its mockery of the cerulean-haired girl who clearly had no proper defense against this mental assault. She shut her eyes tight, trying to rid herself of the mental images that were being dredged up from the darkest recesses of her memories – memories she'd much rather forget._

_Lucina's momentary lack of focus proved to be her undoing._

_With her eyes shut, she was unable to see a piece of stone that had been sticking out of the ground and tripped over it, sending her sprawling painfully to the ground._

_The voice laughed again, delighting in its prey's weakness as the cerulean-haired girl struggled to her hands and knees._

_Turning, she saw a pair of otherworldly golden irises glowing in the middle of the dark shroud of miasma, a wicked smile of teeth opening up beneath the pair of glowing orbs._

_"Nowhere to run… nowhere to hide…" the voice said as the dark figure approached, stalking its prey._

_Lucin shook her head as she backed away in fear._

_"P-please… Leon, help me…"_

_The figure stepped out from the cloud of miasma, revealing the form of the one being she wished she'd never see ever again._

_"No… don't…"_

_The darkness seized her by her arms and legs, holding her in place and preventing her from retreating any further. _

_"S-stay away…"_

_Lucina shook her head as her tormentor drew closer, getting down onto all fours and making its way over her prone, helpless form._

_"S-STOP! I SAID STAY AWAY!"_

_The shadowy apparition reached for her with a clawed hand, and Lucina did the only thing she _could_ do._

_She closed her eyes, and screamed in pure, unbridled fear._

* * *

"Iyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" Lucina awoke with a bloodcurdling scream, eyes looking about wildly for the person – no, the _demon_ – that haunted her nightmares. She flinched at every shadow in the room, almost imagining those golden irises and that wicked smile peeking out from every dark nook and cranny. She was so utterly consumed by the imagined thought of her worst fears actually being realized that she hadn't even noticed the person with a hand on her shoulder until they began speaking.

"Hey, hey! Calm down!" the person's vaguely familiar voice said as Lucina continued to lash out in panic, striking him – and she could recognize the voice as male even in her current state – several times in her panic. "Just hold on for a moment!"

"How can I be calm?!" she screamed back, pushing the other person away with a forceful shove as some of her tears began to fly with her wild movements. "She's here! If she finds me, she'll… she'll…!"

Before she could even finish her sentence, Lucina suddenly found her shoulders held in a firm but gentle grip as the young man pulled her into an embrace, their arms now fully encircling her shoulders to prevent her from making any more wild movements even as she struggled mightily against their grip.

"Let me go!" she said, trying to muster what little strength she had to free herself. "I can't stay here! She–!"

"Damn it, just calm down, Marth!" the other person said forcefully, his sharp words cutting through the fear that had been clouding Lucina's thoughts.

Lucina stilled as the nightmare finally lost its grip on her, the shock from the young man's forceful words dispelling the hold that her irrational fears had on her mind. Without the energy brought about by panic to fuel her wild movements, she collapsed almost lifelessly into the hold the other person had on her.

_'I-It was all a dream…'_ Lucina thought tiredly as the darkness receded from her mind, allowing her to gain a sense of rationality and take those first few steps back towards bringing her wildly raging emotions back under control. _'It was only a dream… a nightmare…'_

Lucina repeated the thoughts to herself a few times, trying to find some assurance that it really was the truth and she'd simply been imagining everything. Glancing upwards with what strength she could muster, she found herself greeted by the familiar facial features and snow-white hair of the Shepherds' tactician.

_'Sir Robin…'_

"You're alright, you're safe," he whispered, his voice much more gentle this time. "No one's going to hurt you, I promise."

Each whispered word sent a tiny little vibration through his chest that the stricken girl could feel through the soft material of his shirt. She couldn't help but find the sensation comforting. It made her want to believe in what he was saying – that she truly was safe here.

"I… I am…?" she asked softly, her voice so small… it sounded almost fragile, even to herself, and again she cursed her weakness even as the voice in her mind began to mock her once again. Lucina could only close her eyes in response as she took a fistful of Robin's shirt in her hand.

"Mm…" Robin hummed gently. "You are."

The words struck a nerve within her, and she could feel the tears forcing their way out from her eyes once again.

"Thank you…" she whispered tiredly as tears began to fall from her eyes and quiet sobs began to escape her lips. "I'm… I'm sorry if I… might have harmed you earlier, Sir Tactician…"

The tactician gave her a small squeeze. "It's fine. I've had worse," he replied, chuckling lightly to himself. "Besides, I just couldn't leave you like that. It was worth the risk, I think."

Despite herself, Lucina couldn't help but choke out a laugh in between her sobs as a sudden emotional exhaustion washed over her. With all the manic energy from her earlier hysteria completely gone along with her darkest fears, she could only lean against the soft cotton shirt and surprisingly firm chest of the tactician who continued to hold her close, her body wracked with pathetic sobs that she tried and failed miserably to stop.

She couldn't help but appreciate Robin's kindness, even if she was surprised by that very same behaviour when she compared it to what she had come to expect from the white-haired tactician. Then again, many of her memories about him came from what she would witness when he was hard at work.

_'… And when he confronted me over today's match…'_

"Are you alright?" Robin asked gently, bringing Lucina back from her thoughts. The girl idly noted the large patches of wetness that now stained the tactician's shirt. If he was bothered any that his shirt – and likely him, as well – was now soaked with Lucina's tears, he was doing an incredible job of hiding it.

Lucina drew back slightly, using her hands as support, and turned her gaze upwards, her teary cerulean eyes meeting Robin's calm hazel – almost gold, really. She sensed his bewilderment, and she regarded him as steadily as she could, almost daring him to comment on her unsightly display of emotion.

For whatever reason, he chose not to comment, instead repeating his question. "Are you alright, Marth?" he asked again.

Lucina nodded. "I… I think I'm better now… t-thank you…" she answered, almost cursing the stutter in her voice. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

Robin smiled tightly. "Don't worry abou- oh…"

Lucina could only watch as Robin's expression went through several emotions – shock, surprise, and confusion, to name a few – before settling on wide-eyed realization. The cerulean-haired girl had been about to ask what had the tactician so gobsmacked that he couldn't even finish his earlier statement, but before she could even part her lips to begin asking the question, she'd already gleaned the answer from where the gaze of those piercing hazel eyes was directed.

Robin was staring directly at her own eyes – her _uncovered eyes_, she quickly realized with growing horror.

He'd seen it; he'd seen the brand in her left eye.

_He'd seen the Mark of Naga she'd so desperately been trying to hide._

Lucina suddenly felt instinct kick in as panic took over her mind for what had to be at least the third time that day.

Using Robin's surprise as an opportunity to push him away, Lucina quickly picked up Falchion from where it was leaning against the wall next to her and dove over the room's solitary bed, coming up in a crouch with her sword already unsheathed and pointed at the tactician.

"Hey, let's calm down here!" Robin said, hands raised in what he seemed to be hoping was a placating manner. "I'm not your enemy."

Lucina narrowed her eyes. "How can I be sure I can even trust you?!" she shot back, making the tactician flinch slightly. It was a fair question. How _could_ she trust anyone, really?

"… I can't," he replied after a brief pause, before he regarded Lucina steadily. "But I think that my intentions were always clear – I just want to talk. If I'd wanted you dead, I would have – and could have – easily done the deed while you were still asleep."

The cerulean-haired girl frowned, the seeds of doubt planting themselves firmly in her mind. She couldn't deny either of the facts the tactician had just brought up, but what was affecting her more than his words was the honesty in them.

He held his hand out towards her. "Please. I don't mean you any harm, Marth. Just put the sword down."

Lucina swallowed thickly, but refused to lower her blade. Her mind was a flurry of activity as she took in Robin's words, her hand tightening its grip around the hilt of Falchion as she struggled with herself.

_'Should I trust him…? _Can_ I trust him?'_

"Peace, Marth. I just want to talk," Robin repeated, inching closer, hands still held away from his body. The tactician was just outside of her reach. One lightning-quick lunge forward and she could pierce his heart before he could so much as react.

_'I… I can't trust anyone… but why? Why do I _want_ to trust _him_…?'_

Lucina shook her head, her sword beginning to waver as her hand trembled. She couldn't trust her own judgement anymore. She didn't know what was right, what was wrong, what she wanted to do, and what she should do.

Robin was within arm's reach now, having moved past Falchion's tip. Lucina shut her eyes tight, frozen in place as she was. Her mind blanked. She had no idea how to react.

_'Leon… what should I do…?'_

The cerulean-haired girl felt the tactician's gloved hand softly wrap itself around her own, and she stiffened at the contact for a moment. Her hand was shaking almost uncontrollably now, and no matter how she tried it just wouldn't stop trembling.

"Easy there… " he whispered gently, his voice once again washing over her like the ocean waves at the shoreline and soothing her frantic nerves. "Just lower your sword, Marth. It's alright. Just trust me. Please."

Lucina shook her head. "I…"

_'I can't,'_ she wanted to say, but she knew that wasn't true in the slightest. It was simply her paranoia talking, because she'd repeated to herself time and time again that she shouldn't change the past beyond what was truly necessary for the coming disaster to be averted.

However… it was getting to be too difficult for her. Even if doing what she was about to do went against what might have been her own better sense of judgement, Lucina knew that she was no longer able to handle the strain of the burden alone. While she would rather not admit it, the past few days had made her increasingly fragile mental and emotional state readily apparent even to her own self.

As she was now, Lucina needed an ally in the world, someone she could at least trust on some level… and here the tactician Robin was, offering her that hand she so desperately needed to hold onto.

Nodding ever so slightly, the cerulean-haired girl allowed Robin's hand to lower her own. "… Alright…" she whispered softly. "I'll trust you…"

"… Thank you…" was the tactician's equally soft reply. "That's all I was really asking for."

Before she knew it, Lucina was being guided back to the chair she'd fallen asleep in. The tactician eased her numb body into the seat, making sure she was comfortable before taking Falchion from her hand and setting it aside.

Without Falchion in her grasp, Lucina felt almost as if she were naked, but she shook the feeling aside and tried to keep her tenuous grip on her emotions about her. While she'd decided to trust Robin, that didn't mean she was quite ready to let her guard down completely.

Taking a seat in the room's solitary bed, Robin leaned forward and placed his elbows on his thighs. Lucina could see the gears working behind the tactician's eyes, his brows furrowed in thought as he considered how he wanted to approach the situation. She was thankful for whatever reason gave him pause, because it also allowed her to find some semblance of composure for what was to come.

It was a long period of silence before he finally looked up and opened his mouth to speak.

"So…" he began tentatively.

Lucina waited with baited breath. _'Here it comes…'_

Robin let out a tired sigh. "Man, how to start this, really?" he said, chuckling dryly. "I had quite a few questions before, but now that we're here…"

The tactician paused for a moment before suddenly offering up a lopsided smile. "I guess I should start by saying thank you for saving my backside back in that forest."

Lucina shook her head stiffly. "No thanks are needed, Sir Robin," she replied, before she raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Surely you didn't come here just to say that?"

Robin laughed. "Well, no, but I needed to break the ice somehow," he admitted, smiling sheepishly for a moment. "You're quite the puzzle, Marth, so much so that I even wasn't quite sure how to start our first proper conversation with each other."

Lucina appraised the white-haired man seated across from her. The cerulean-haired girl had been expecting an almost confrontational sort of approach from the tactician, similar to what he'd done earlier in the day after the conclusion of her duel with the Ylissean Prince. She was most definitely confused and surprised by his almost casual approach, especially when she considered how his behavior tended to be more on the severe and serious side.

_'Then again… I suppose I've only ever really encountered him when he's in his element…'_ Lucina thought to herself, acknowledging once again that she'd only ever really met the Ylissean tactician Robin a handful of times, at best, and most of those times had been on the battlefield.

"Truth be told, I've been curious about you ever since our first encounter," Robin continued, drawing Lucina from her internal thoughts. "You drop out of a glowing portal in the sky and fight alongside us against what can only be described as an army of the undead. You follow that up with some cryptic words about an approaching calamity before leaving without even allowing any of us to get a word in. The next time you show up, you're suddenly on the opposing side, and proceed to beat the ever living life out of Chrom until – for whatever reason – you proceed to throw the duel after seeing his blood splashed all over his face. You keep to yourself except when it suits you, _and_ you even hide your face behind a mask – a _butterfly_-shaped mask, at that – as if the very idea of showing your face might spell damnation for the whole world."

Lucina couldn't quite keep the surprise from her face at his words. It was more than a little curious that, out of all the things he'd mentioned, he'd chosen to single out the shape of her mask. Of course, _she_ knew what the symbolism behind it was, but there was no way he could know given the fact he only had about three weeks' worth of memories.

Almost as if he could read her mind, Robin chuckled. "There's no need to be so surprised," he said. "I've been reading a lot – as much as I could and at every opportunity. It just so happened that one of the books I read was about symbolisms."

The cerulean-haired girl frowned. "Assuming the shape of my mask holds any sort of significance, what does that have to do with anything?"

Granted, it _did_, but she wasn't quite ready to let the tactician know how accurate his readings of her were right now.

Robin shrugged easily. "That's something _I'd_ like to know, to be perfectly honest," he replied, before a knowing smile touched his lips. "That said, what I _do_ know is that your mask wasn't just a fashion statement." His hazel eyes looked meaningfully at Lucina's own sapphires, searching out her left eye. "It's not every day that someone's carrying a Mark of Naga in the iris of their left eye, after all."

The cerulean-haired girl resisted the urge to cover her left eye. There was no use trying to hide it, not when the tactician had already seared its image into his memory.

As things were right now, Robin currently had all the cards in his favor, considering his knowledge of her Mark. For now, all she could do was try to play his game and see where it led.

With that in mind, Lucina returned Robin's gaze as steadily as she could. "… So, what do you want from me, Sir Robin?" she asked.

Robin sighed tiredly. "Honestly? I just want answers," he answered. "I have a lot of unanswered questions, and I just have this feeling that you can answer a lot of them for me."

Lucina couldn't help but smile wryly. "Those are interesting words from someone who woke with no memories, Sir Robin. I'd say there are equally as many unanswered questions about you."

The tactician chuckled. "Quite right, I'll give you that, Marth," he said, before he grew thoughtful. "… Or whatever your name really is. I'm almost sure that's not actually your name, even if I have no idea who you actually are. I mean, I have a few crazy ideas, but…"

"What ideas are they, if I may ask?" she suddenly asked.

Robin blinked. "Huh?"

Lucina felt herself grow a little flustered. "I-I mean… I'm just curious as to your thoughts," she stammered out. "Considering all you've figured out about me, I want to know what else is in your thoughts, Sir Tactician."

Said tactician raised an eyebrow. "I assume that you're doing this almost completely out of curiosity and won't be confirming or denying anything I say, will you?"

Lucina nodded, barely managing to keep herself from laughing at the bluntness of Robin's statement. Granted, it _was_ true, but the matter-of-fact delivery somehow just struck a chord within her.

The tactician chuckled. "Fair enough," he said. "Well, I'm still not sure about a lot of things, but your Mark _did_ answer some of the questions I had by confirming one important fact for me: that you're of the Exalted bloodline, which means you're related to Chrom in some way, shape, or form. I'd already had some suspicions about it before, but it wasn't until I saw your eyes a few minutes ago that I could really say I was absolutely sure."

Lucina leaned in a little closer. "What made you think so initially?"

"Like I said, it was a suspicion – a hypothesis, if you will – based on three things," Robin admitted, running a hand through his snow-white hair. "First off, you're almost completely covered from head to toe. I initially had no idea why, but it made more sense when I saw the Mark of Naga embroidered into your cape, which just so happens to be my second point – the fact that you wear the said emblem on your armor and cape. With that in mind, I began to entertain the thought that you were covered up so much because you _were_ trying to hide something, which just so happened to be spot-on."

Lucina nodded, masking her surprise at Robin's leaps of logic. The tactician's thinking was as sound as ever, and she couldn't help but be impressed by his reasoning given all the assumptions he had to make to come to those conclusions. Granted, she was lucky no one else had been able to make any of those connections just yet – and Naga forbid someone else begin to figure out her identity – but she supposed that, if anyone could, it was the Shepherds' ferociously intelligent tactician.

"So, what was the third?" she asked, trying to keep him talking lest she accidentally let something slip through her words or her expression.

Robin chuckled. "Ah, the third point's not quite as incriminating as the first two," he replied. "But… well, the fact that you possess some physical similarities with Chrom happens to fit in with my imagined narrative. Your hair is the exact same shade of blue as Chrom's, and what I could see of your facial features also resembled his own or Exalt Emmeryn's to some degree. While it may be a coincidence, those physical features I mentioned also happen to be traits you both share with the Hero-King, judging by the portraits I saw of him back in the palace at Ylisstol, which reinforces the idea that you're actually related."

Lucina raised her eyebrows in surprise. "That's… quite the conclusion to make from something that you yourself acknowledge is coincidental…"

The tactician shrugged lightly. "Like I said, on its own it's not quite as incriminating," he said, misunderstanding the cerulean-haired girl's reaction. "I'm just keeping it in mind since inheriting physical traits is quite common among descendants of a bloodline."

"… Though now that I've seen your face in its entirety, I can tell you that you're much prettier than Chrom is," Robin added as an afterthought after a moment of pause.

Lucina felt her cheeks warm up at Robin's last remark, and she turned her face away to try and hide what she was sure was a brightly glowing blush. However innocent Robin's words might have been, she still couldn't help but be flustered by the compliment.

The white-haired tactician frowned. "Hey, what's wrong? Are you alright?"

Lucina looked sharply at him, blush glowing even more fiercely. "If you're thinking your moment of kindness earlier gives you the right to shamelessly flirt–"

Suddenly realizing just what his words had insinuated, Robin quickly raised his hands in a placating gesture. "N-no, wait, I didn't mean it like that!" he said, his own cheeks lighting up pink. "D-don't get the wrong idea! I had no such thoughts!"

"Y-you better not have…" Lucina murmured, placing a hand over her chest to try and calm her rapidly beating heart.

A fairly uncomfortable silence followed as the two flustered individuals attempted to regain their composure. Every once in a while, Lucina would throw a rather withering glare Robin's way, and every time the tactician locked eyes with her she'd quickly break eye contact and look away.

After several minutes of tense back and forth between the two, the tactician finally broke the awkward silence.

Robin coughed, regaining Lucina's full attention once more. "G-going back to what I said earlier… no, not that!" he quickly added when Lucina shot him another glare. "I was referring more towards what I was saying regarding my hypothesis on who you might be. For the longest time, it was nothing but speculation and educated guesswork that I concocted in my spare time, but…"

"But now that you've seen my Mark, your hypothesis that I might be related to the Exalted bloodline is actually proven true on some level," Lucina supplied, acknowledging that, while Robin could so very easily fumble social activity, his guesswork was exceptional. She couldn't help but admire and appreciate the white-haired man's analytical mind even if it made her more than a little nervous just how close he was getting to uncovering the truth about her.

Robin nodded. "Yes, exactly. That said, I'm… not exactly sure _how_ you're related," the tactician answered, lacing his fingers together in front of his face. "I mean, as we've already said, the Mark proves it. You can't magic up that sort of physical trait, and, even if you did, I should have been able to tell from the get-go." He sighed heavily. "However, it doesn't tell me anything besides that fact. Making the situation more confusing is me trying to figure out why we'd ever have a member of the Exalted bloodline that's never been talked about, especially when you consider how much Chrom, Exalt Emmeryn, and Lissa adore each other."

"Do you have any ideas, though?" Lucina asked. "If you've gotten that far with your hypothesis, then surely you were able to develop it a little further."

Robin ran a hand through his hair. "I admit that I came up with a couple of ideas," he said. "I didn't go very far with them, though, since I don't want to get _too_ wild with my theory-crafting while there are still so many unknowns on the field."

He shrugged. "If you're curious, I guess I can share them, anyway. I initially considered that you might have been Chrom's sister, maybe switched with Lissa at birth for some reason or another, but I debunked that myself pretty quickly. Even with the new information like the presence of the Mark in your left eye, it still doesn't hold much water."

Lucina furrowed her eyebrows. "Explain."

Robin shrugged. "You resemble Chrom a little bit more closely than Lissa does, and you have the Mark she lacks. But while Lissa and Chrom don't look too much alike, no one can deny that Lissa very much resembles Emmeryn. But the only reason you and Lissa would be switched at birth is so a noble family can either-" At this, Robin raised a finger. "-have ties to the throne through her, or-" Here, he raised a second one. "-try to use you to take the throne for themselves. Either way, that wouldn't work since it would imply that either you or Lissa resented the Exalted bloodline for whatever reason."

He suddenly paused, as if struck by a sudden thought, before letting out a bark of laughter.

"Granted, you _did_ beat the ever-living tar out of Chrom earlier today, so maybe that idea might not be as far-fetched as I think, but I'm still convinced that you hold no feelings of the sort towards them."

Lucina raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?" she asked. He was certainly right in saying she didn't, but… again, there was something in her that wanted to hear the tactician's reasoning.

"Well, you saved Lissa and Chrom back in the forest, didn't you? Deception doesn't seem to be your strongest suit, anyway, but I doubt you're the type who'd ever do something – especially save someone's life – with ulterior motives in mind."

_'Touché.'_

She certainly couldn't refute that statement, simple as it was.

"Either way, I'm quite sure that you or Lissa raising hell and leading some revolt to take the throne isn't happening," Robin concluded. "Lissa loves her siblings too much, and, while I don't actually _know_ what your motives are, I don't feel like you're holding any sort of grudge against Chrom or Lissa or actually hold any aspirations for the throne."

Lucina nodded. She would have considered Robin's theory as believable, too, were it not for Lissa's aforementioned love and adoration for her siblings… although, looking at this scenario from the outside, one might indeed wonder if her own motivations might include aspirations for one day wresting the title of Exalt away from Emmeryn.

She shook her head. _'Desiring the Ylissean throne, hm?' _she thought, trying to keep a smile from her lips. _'If only you really knew.'_

"I know, that idea's pretty out there, but at least it still has _some_ semblance of sense to it," the tactician said. "All my other ideas are pretty much the definition of crazy. The second theory I had was that maybe you were a child that the previous Exalt had with a consort or a mistress – some product of his misdeed – but I doubt that you could have escaped the attention and knowledge of the Ylissean court all these years."

Lucina couldn't resist the smile this time, however small it may have been. _'I'm no product of misdeed, Sir Tactician, but I certainly _am_ the child of an Exalt…'_ she thought dryly. _'Just not the Exalt you might be thinking of…'_

Robin sighed. "Regardless, those theories are out the window because while they're plausible in terms of explaining your blood heritage, they still don't give me the answers to a lot of very important questions," he continued. "Nothing – not even your Mark of Naga – has managed to tie up any of the loose ends that remain unanswered. Hell, I'd say your Mark actually makes things even harder for me to figure it out."

"Those loose ends being…?" Lucina asked.

Robin blew out a breath. "Wow, where do I start?" he asked rhetorically. "Let's see…"

Here the tactician began ticking off fingers as he listed out his questions. "I think the most important question is figuring out where you come from. After that, I can ask everything else, like where you acquired that Falchion doppelganger you're carrying around, and why said doppelganger looks exactly like the Falchion Chrom wears on his own hip."

Lucina's eyebrows shot up. "H-how are you not sure that my weapon isn't just a well-made replica?" she asked, not quite able to mask the waver in her tone.

At this point, Robin chuckled. "Simple. When I took your sword from your hands, I looked it over and compared it to the image of Falchion in my head. It's not so hard to remember it down to the last detail, because I don't have much taking up space in my head to begin with." He gave the cerulean-haired girl a searching look. "Care to know what I found out?"

"W-what did you find out?" Lucina asked, feeling her heart rate increase just a tiny bit more.

Robin let a smirk twist his lips. "Aside from a few additional scuffs and scratches here and there, they're _exactly_ the same."

Lucina swallowed, trying to keep her rising panic from showing. "S-so? What are you saying, Sir Tactician?"

Robin's smirk turned into a frown. "That's the thing, Marth. I really have no idea what I'm saying."

"What?" The cerulean-haired girl's panic vanished as quickly as it had come, replaced with an all-too apparent confusion that she couldn't quite keep from her face.

For his part, the tactician sighed. "It's because nothing adds up. Your origins could be just about anything at this point," he said. "I've read up a little bit on this place called the Outrealms, and from what I understand it's supposedly some sort of gateway that connects us to other worlds and dimensions. Everything surrounding you is so confusing that I've even considered that you actually _are_ some reincarnated Hero-King from one of these other worlds, which _might_ explain the sword but not how you're constantly one step ahead of us every time. If I was crazy I'd even consider something as absurd as time travel to try and explain your seeming omniscience."

Lucina's breath hitched for a moment at the mention of time travel. There was no way the tactician could…

"Those are… some rather imaginative theories," she ventured carefully. Just like that, the panic was back in full force, because he was _close_. If only Robin really knew how close to the truth he actually was.

_'By the goddess, Sir Robin… you and your intellect truly are frightening.'_

Robin chuckled. "Oh, you think so, too?" he replied with a grin. "Glad to know you think they're as crazy as I thought they were."

Lucina let out an inaudible sigh, masking her relief with a soft smile of her own. She'd been saved – _she'd actually been saved_ – by the unlikeliness of her own story.

"Thanks for the opportunity, though," the tactician added. "Even if you're not even confirming or denying anything, at least I was able to get some of this off my chest."

The cerulean-haired girl shook her head. "It's… it's fine, Sir Robin," she replied. "It was also quite enlightening for me, listening to your theories and your reasoning… even the more far-fetched ones."

Robin laughed, and Lucina couldn't help but smile at the sound. His laugh was infectious and open, the kind that would easily spread to others who heard it. Lucina felt just that tiny pang of pain in her heart that she was so broken that she was incapable of joining in and laughing along with such a beautiful sound.

"So… what's next for you after this?" Robin suddenly asked after he'd calmed down. "I doubt you're going to stay as Khan Basilio's champion, so I'm pretty sure you're going to get moving sooner rather than later. To be honest, I want to invite you to join us, but… well, if your track record is any indication, you'll probably tell me you'd rather work alone."

Lucina nodded once, slowly. "Quite right," she replied, a hidden part of her instantly regretting having said those words. Oh, how she wanted to take her words back and simply agree to join the Shepherds, but the cerulean-haired girl somehow found the strength within to hold firm to her resolve.

Robin sighed helplessly. "Can't say I wasn't expecting that, but at least I tried…" he murmured, before shaking his head. "Well, either way, I'm sure our paths will cross again in the _very_ near future… maybe even when we get back to Ylisstol, I'd say."

The cerulean-haired girl raised a delicate eyebrow. "What makes you say that?" she asked.

_'You're not exactly wrong, though… but I'm starting to worry because your foresight is equally sharp. Are you sure _you _aren't from the future yourself?'_

The tactician ran a hand through his hair. "As much as the Exalt would have hoped otherwise, I can tell that Ylisse has problems with Plegia," he replied. "I tend to like being right, but I'm _really_ hoping I'm wrong when I say that those problems are going to get worse before they get better." He gave the cerulean-haired girl a smile. "Still, I can't help but think you'll have a role to play in helping us avert whatever crisis might be coming our way."

"… There definitely is a coming catastrophe… but it's nothing like what you're expecting," Lucina answered, eyes staring into the distance for a moment as she saw images she'd rather forget. Shaking her head, the cerulean-haired girl returned her attention to the tactician sitting across from her. "Our very future is at stake here, Sir Robin, and I don't just mean Ylisse's own, but that of the world itself."

The tactician leaned forward. "A catastrophe?" he asked, eyes almost begging for answers.

Lucina averted her eyes. "… I'm sorry, but I can't say more for now," she added quietly. "Just know that the fate of everything may hinge on the actions you take in the coming months… so, please, take great care."

Robin leaned back, his expression one of disappointment, but he gave her a nod. "I see. I'll keep that in mind at all times," he replied, before rising to his feet. "I think I've taken enough of your time, and I should be getting back to the Shepherds." He gave Lucina a warm smile. "Thank you for the talk, Marth. While I may not have gotten the answers I necessarily wanted, I _did_ learn a lot… even if some of it was accidental."

Lucina nodded, understanding just what that accidental information he was referring to was. Again, she cursed her carelessness for a moment before quickly tossing the thought to the side. It had already happened, and Robin already knew. There was nothing else to be done but to live with it.

Still… that didn't mean the information had to spread.

_'Especially not to Prince Chrom…'_

Lucina's hand shot out, grabbing Robin's arm as he moved for the door and prompting the tactician to give her his attention again.

"Sir Robin… please, if you'd wait a moment more?"

The tactician turned to face her, eyes quizzical. "Yes?"

Lucina hesitated for a moment. "… Whatever you've learned today about me… is it alright if I ask that you not share any of it with anyone else?"

Robin's eyebrows went up, and Lucina suddenly felt her cheeks warm. "N-not that I don't trust your comrades, but…"

"I won't spread anything, I promise."

Lucina blinked. "Eh?"

Robin smiled. "I may not fully understand your reasons or motivations, but I know that your intentions are noble," he replied gently. "I will repay your trust with my own. You may not think of me as a friend quite yet, but at least think of me as an ally you can count on."

"S-Sir Robin…"

Robin nodded, softly taking Lucina's hand from his arm and lowering it back to the armrest of her chair before he once again moved towards the door.

Lucina watched as the tactician placed a hand on the doorknob, but for some reason didn't move to open it for several moments.

"Ah, right. Before I go…" Robin suddenly spoke up.

Quizzically, the girl looked up from where she was seated. "Hm?"

The tactician turned back to face Lucina, his expression filled with an emotion she couldn't quite identify.

"Are you sure there's no way I can convince you to travel with us?" he asked her, his tone sounding like it was almost pleading. "We can help you, if you'd allow us to. I know we can."

Lucina felt her heart beat painfully. This was it. The opportunity she'd only been able to imagine but never actually expect to happen.

As painful as it was to her deep down, Lucina shook her head gently. "Thank you for the offer… but, right now, my place is not with you, Sir Tactician," she replied. Even then, an immense feeling of gratitude filled her heart, and she couldn't help but allow the tiniest of smiles to grace her lips. "Perhaps someday, it may become possible for me to travel with you. Until then, know I will keep my vigil over you all. I wish you and your companions safe travels."

Robin nodded in understanding. "I see…" he replied, disappointment clearly etched in those earnest hazel eyes of his. "I wish you luck, Marth. I know I said I'm sure that's not actually your name, but I have nothing else to call you by, so…"

"Lucina."

The tactician did a double take. "E-excuse me?"

"My real name," the cerulean-haired girl said, surprising even herself with the decision to trust the tactician with that most vital piece of information about herself. "It's Lucina."

Robin smiled, and for some reason Lucina could see a distinct sense of joy in his expression. "Lucina, then," he said. "It's nice to finally meet you for real. Please, stay safe until our next meeting."

"I… I will, Sir Robin. I ask that you do the same."

The tactician nodded. "I will do my best. Thank you… Lucina."

And with those words, Robin took his leave, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Lucina could only stare at the space he'd been occupying moments before, a strange feeling fluttering inside her chest at having been referred to by her real name.

* * *

The next morning, the Shepherds now stood at the gates of Arena Ferox, ready to head home after having secured the much-needed alliance with Regna Ferox.

There were a few hangovers among the Shepherds after the Khans had brought out some harder liquor during his little escapade. It was quite the sight to see, Robin had to admit, seeing so many of his comrades look more than a little disoriented. Vaike and Sully were the main offenders, and if it weren't for some invisible force steadying them, Robin was quite sure they'd have toppled over unceremoniously by now.

Of course, Robin had been unable to believe his eyes and taken a closer look at the two, only to realize that it was actually Kellam keeping the two upright.

_'I really _should_ practice looking out for him… Wouldn't do for a tactician to not have all his soldiers accounted for,'_ the tactician thought to himself, chuckling at the knight's incredible lack of presence.

Across from the Shepherds stood the two Khans, looking none too worse for the wear even after a night of heavy drinking. A troop of the Khans' personal guards stood behind them, not quite at attention but definitely appraising the prince and tactician with some measure of respect.

_'Looks like our escapades here have done some good, after all…'_

"Khan Flavia, Khan Basilio, you have my thanks for agreeing to our alliance," Chrom said, bringing Robin out of his thoughts in time for him to see the prince clasping wrists with the two Khans in turn.

Flavia grinned. "I'm a woman of my word, Princeling, and the Feroxi always honor their promises," she replied. "Besides, you helped me get my throne back from this big lug over here! How could I _not_ have repaid you for that?"

As the Khan-Regent burst into laughter, Basilio grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "Just you wait until those hangers-on start making your life miserable…"

"What was that, oaf?" Flavia asked, turning to face her Western counterpart.

The two Khans quickly descended into a round of bickering, the Prince of Ylisse only able to watch things play out with a bewildered expression on his face. Behind the two, the Khans' guards seemed completely unperturbed by the scene, as if it were a more common occurrence than any of them would probably care for.

Robin chose that moment to quietly slide up next to Chrom. "I think we should be getting a move on, Chrom," he said lowly, breaking Chrom out of his trance. "Even with the Feroxi messenger ahead of us on the road, Exalt Emmeryn will want word from us as quickly as possible."

Chrom nodded. "Right. Thank you, Robin." Clearing his throat, the prince gave a respectful half-bow to the bantering Khans. "Well, then, we'd best be going. Thank you once again to you both."

With his piece said, the prince began to turn away, but, before he or any of the Shepherds could so much as take more than a few steps, the gruff voice of Khan Basilio called out.

"Hold, boy," Khan Basilio said, prompting the Shepherds to turn their attention back to the dark-skinned man, who'd managed to fend off Flavia long enough to get his attention. "I almost forgot. Before you go, I have a little present for you."

Waving a hand, the large warrior motioned for someone to come forward from the troop behind him. Out from the group of Feroxi warriors emerged a stern-faced man with messy dark hair, a traveling pack hoisted over his shoulders.

Robin's eyebrows rose as he recognized the gruff swordsman who'd served as his guide yesterday evening. The man gave not a hint of recognition in his eyes or in his expression, choosing to simply scowl at anything and everything around him.

"This is Lon'qu, my former champion," Basilio said, clapping a meaty hand down on the taciturn swordsman's shoulder. If the strength of the blow bothered him, he did a _very_ good job of hiding it. "He's not much for talking, but he's handy with a sword… about as good as Marth, in my mind, and we all saw what _he_ could do to the Princeling!"

Basilio laughed heartily at that, and Chrom couldn't help but redden in embarrassment.

"To be honest, I _still_ can't figure out how Marth was able to best him the way he did," the West-Khan added after his laughter had subsided. "I've never seen anyone knock Lon'qu out that way – his mastery of the fourth school shouldn't have allowed for such a situation to have happened."

Robin frowned in thought. _'The fourth school…?'_

"Marth beat him?" Lissa asked, eyeing Lon'qu curiously and taking a few steps towards the silent man to get a closer look. "But he looks so big and strong!"

As Lissa approached, Lon'qu stiffened and quickly took a step back for every step towards him the princess took.

"Away, woman!" he growled out tersely, his expression quite pale.

Lissa pulled back quickly at the sound, letting out a 'meep' as she did so. Frederick frowned, his hand instantly moving for his spear, but Robin's hand landing on his forearm along with a quick shake of the head forced the knight to hold his ground and his tongue.

"Hey! W-what did I say wrong?" Lissa asked, clearly reeling from the reaction.

Basilio once again burst into laughter, almost doubling over as he did so were it not for his hand on Flavia's shoulder barely keeping him upright.

"Oh, that never gets old," the Khan said after his fit of laughter. "Not to worry, Princess, it isn't so much something you've done, but something you _are_."

Lissa gave him a quizzical look, prompting Basilio to explain further. "Lon'qu here has… well, let's just say he has a thing about women." The Khan's one good eye suddenly made contact with Robin's own eyes, and a hidden message quickly passed between the two men.

_'Ah… yes, of course. He remembers our conversation from yesterday.'_

"They tend to put him on edge, and make him more than a little nervous when they get a little too close for comfort," Basilio continued. "Nonetheless, he's a capable warrior – probably the best I have. Perhaps he even has the makings of a Khan one day should he continue to grow stronger." The Khan grinned. "Consider his service a reward for impressing me boy. Think of him as the West-Khan's personal contribution to your cause."

Robin nodded, filing away Basilio's words in his mind. If the West-Khan himself was saying as much, then Lon'qu was clearly a man of great strength and even greater potential.

Next to the tactician, Chrom frowned thoughtfully. "Your generosity is appreciated, but… are you sure, West-Khan?" he asked. "Giving us one of your best warriors just like that?"

Basilio chuckled good-naturedly. "Yes, yes, quite sure. He's your man now," he replied.

Chrom turned his attention to Lon'qu. "And you, Lon'qu? Have you any objections to this arrangement?"

The stoic swordsman shrugged. "He gives orders, and I stab people. Our roles are clear," he replied. "Now I'll just be doing the stabbing for you."

Taken aback by Lon'qu's no-nonsense, apathetic manner, Chrom could only nod. "I… I see. Welcome aboard, then."

The swordsman nodded at the prince, before turning his attention to Robin, who could proudly say that he didn't flinch or turn away from the other man's sharp, eagle-eyed gaze.

"Yes?" he ventured out.

Lon'qu silently appraised him for a moment. "You are the tactician? The one who bested Raimi?"

Robin frowned, wondering where this conversation was going. "I am."

Lon'qu nodded. "I see. I look forward to serving under you, and to learning as much as I can from you while in your service."

As he moved to take his place within the Shepherds' formation, Robin couldn't help but be reminded once again of Lon'qu's almost-terrifying intensity.

It distracted him so that it was only after a few moments that the swordsman's last statements had registered in his mind.

_'Learning from me? What?'_

"I told him that there's much to be learned under the command of a gifted tactician."

Robin turned to look at Basilio, who was now looking at him. "I think he'll flourish beneath your watchful eye, Tactician Robin… just like the rest of you Shepherds probably will if given enough time."

"Robin?" "M-me?"

Prince and tactician both shared a look, equally surprised by the fact they'd spoken at the same time and the fact that the latter had been singled out by the West-Khan.

"Yes, tactician, you," Flavia said, grinning. "You bested our border guards, and that's not something so easily done. Basilio seems to hold you in high regard, as well, and… while he's wrong in a lot of things, I can admit that he's usually right when it comes to appraising those with potential."

Robin felt his cheeks warm at the indirect compliment he'd just been paid, and by the leaders of Regna Ferox, no less.

Beside him, Lissa grinned. "Looks like _someone's_ moving up in the world," she remarked cheekily, giving Robin a nudge in the ribs.

If at all possible, Robin flushed even deeper. "T-thank you. That… that's high praise," he said, wanting to just pull the cowl of his coat up to hide his flaming cheeks.

They weren't going to let him live this down the entirety of the journey back, he could already feel it.

Oh, how he couldn't wait to be back in Ylisstol.


	8. Chapter Six - Winds of War

**Author's Note: Not much to say today. I really wish I could churn these out faster, but I can only really work when my muse allows me to. That said, I hope you all will keep with me as we move through the story. Suffice to say the whole plot has been completely written out, it's all down to putting it into a coherent story that we can all enjoy - me writing it, and you reading it.  
**

**As usual, discussions, thoughts, feedback (anything beyond two words like "Nice chapter" or "Awesome work" will be most appreciated), and questions can be sent through reviews. I do take time to read each one, and for those of you who have done so you know I DO reply when capable.**

**As usual, I thank you for all the patience and support. It's been a rough stretch these last fifteen months, but we're approaching some calmer waters now. Naga be with you all.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem Awakening, or any associated characters, weapons, concepts, etc. that are found therein.**

* * *

_**Chapter Six **_**_– Winds of War_****  
**

Location: Exalt Palace, War Room

Robin sighed inaudibly for the umpteenth time today as he continued to try and listen to the exchange of words occurring before him while instead immersing himself in his own thoughts.

The Shepherds hadn't even been back in Ylisstol for a week before he'd been whisked away one morning by Chrom and Frederick and dragged into a war room meeting with Exalt Emmeryn and her council of advisers both political and military. Needless to say, Robin had felt the entire meeting a waste of time for the most part. What had tested Robin's patience was the fact that Chrom had barely even gotten into his report when most of the older advisers – the political ones, the tactician noted idly – had quickly begun rambling on about everything and nothing, citing reports about the increasing frequency of Plegian raids and Risen sightings and how the prince's Shepherds should have been dealing with them.

If he were being perfectly honest, Robin could ignore their general refusal to acknowledge him when he wished to speak as typical of high-ranking officials. He supposed that, as a low-ranking tactician of questionable origins, it seemed almost natural that hardly anyone was even willing to allow him to air his thoughts on whatever the current matter of discussion was.

Still, that didn't give them the right to talk over their own prince and hurl baseless accusations of negligence his way simply because they didn't understand anything beyond their short-sighted views.

Chrom had handled himself rather admirably, all things considered, but it was clear as day – to Robin, at least – that the prince wasn't pleased. Robin had learned Chrom's tell rather quickly; if his hand was constantly gripping and kneading Falchion's hilt, he was agitated.

Still, the prince's ability to keep his temper was a bit more than what Robin would have expected given his personality, but…

_'I guess Emmeryn is quite the calming presence. Her experience in dealing with matters of court isn't to be underestimated.'_

Indeed, the Exalt had kept things on track in spite of the councilors' need to hear themselves talk, putting her foot down and quieting the room when things had begun to get out of hand and asking that Chrom be allowed to deliver his report without interruption. She went on to state that he'd been away on a mission she herself had requested of him and his Shepherds, and that it had been the regular army's duty to carry out the peace-keeping activities in the Shepherds' stead while they were away.

She hadn't raised her voice or changed her tone in any way throughout her short spiel, but something in her presence had changed enough to cow the rest of the room into meek submission.

Robin had felt his mouth quirk up into an irresistible smirk as the councilors backed down, and he couldn't quite wipe the smug expression off his face. Clearly, Emmeryn was not someone to be trifled with. The saying "Beware the nice ones" certainly rang true in the very highest echelons of Ylisse's hierarchy.

"… Then Regna Ferox will support Ylisse?" Emmeryn asked her younger brother, her words pulling the tactician from his thoughts. Clearly, he'd been inattentive for longer than he'd thought, since Chrom had already apparently concluded his report and was now being asked for clarifications and other additional details.

The prince nodded, prompting the Exalt to smile in approval. "Thank you, Chrom," she said, equal parts gratitude and relief showing through in her words and expression. "I knew sending you was the right choice."

Looking at the rest of the room, Emmeryn nodded. "That will be all for now, councilors. I thank you for your time and patience. We will reconvene later in the day."

Robin let out an inaudible sigh of relief as the meeting was adjourned. He tuned out the inevitable post-meeting discussions between the middle-aged and elderly men that made up the Exalt's council as they rose to their feet, many of them collecting papers and documents before making their way out the door. Many left without so much as a glance at the Shepherds present, although Robin _did_ note that quite a few of the older council members gave him looks that ranged from dirty to outright distrustful.

_'Hah… they're so absorbed in their own egos and self-importance that they fail to see the problem right lying before us in favour of judging me by my possible origins…'_ Robin thought. _'Why am I not the least bit surprised?'_

Chrom grinned. "You should see Ferox's warriors, sister!" he exclaimed happily as the last of Emmeryn's advisers filed out of the war room. "With them at our side, perhaps now our people might be–"

"Your Grace! M-Milord!" a voice cut in, silencing Chrom as all seated at the table turned to see Wing Commander Phila bursting through the doors.

The seasoned knight skidded to a halt at Emmeryn's side and took a knee, head bowed in respect.

"Forgive me for this intrusion, Your Grace, but I bring alarming news!"

Emmeryn had turned in her seat, arms held out in a placating gesture. "Calm, Phila! Slow down, please!" she said. "What happened?"

"Plegian soldiers have been sighted inside our South-western border!" the pegasus knight commander said in a rare display of panic. "They attacked the city of Themis and abducted the duke's daughter!"

On Robin's other side, Lissa's eyes widened. "B-but… that's Maribelle!" she cried out, before looking across the tactician to her brother, whose expression had hardened. "Chrom, we have to do something!"

"We will, Lissa. Worry not," Chrom reassured his younger sister, his jaw clenching in obviously restrained anger as he turned to Frederick who was standing at attention behind him. "Have the Shepherds prepare to depart. We leave at the earliest opportunity! We're not going to let this stand!"

"Yes, milord," Frederick said as he placed a hand across his chest and bowed in acquiescence.

Robin, for his part, reached over and placed a supportive hand on Lissa's shoulder. "We'll get her back. I'll do everything to make it happen."

Lissa smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Robin."

Before Frederick could even make it out the door, Phila spoke again.

"Wait, Milord. There's more," the falcon knight said, prompting the knight to stop as attention at the table to turn back to her. "We've also received a missive from King Gangrel of Plegia. He claims that Lady Maribelle was in fact the one who invaded _his_ country, and he is now demanding Ylisse pay reparations for this…" At this point, Phila made a face. "… 'insult'."

Chrom slammed his hands on the table as he rose to his feet, his expression indignant.

"And we're supposed to simply believe a dastard like the Mad King?!" he snarled, before whipping around to face his elder sister. "Emm! We can't just let him get away with this!"

For her part, Emmeryn was the image of calm dignity. "Peace, Chrom," she said evenly. "We must keep our wits about us in these situations lest we allow emotion to cloud our thinking."

Chrom growled venomously. He loved Emmeryn, that was as sure as the fact that sunlight was hot, but he just couldn't _stand_ how she refused to simply accept that she could no longer simply wave the flag of peace. It was completely infuriating how she seemed to view everything with what he could only call cold detachment!

"We should just put him to the sword and be done with all of this!" he snarled, turning to face the table at large. "Gangrel has been trying to provoke a war with us at every step for months and years! The Khans themselves have told me that he's even started trying to do the same with Regna Ferox! If we don't put an end to him now, he'll not stop until he's burned this entire continent to the ground! We have to show that he can't simply continue to commit these atrocities!"

Robin frowned as he watched things play out before him._ 'Careful, Chrom… Those are _very_ dangerous thoughts to have…'_

Emmeryn's lips twisted into a frown of her own. "I understand how you must feel, Chrom, I truly do. But, we cannot give him the war that he wants. If we do, then we'll have already lost. Have you–"

"Give him war?! He's already brought a war right to our doorstep, sister!" Chrom shot back furiously, cutting his sister off. "It doesn't matter how much you talk about peace, because Gangrel will always be looking for the next opportunity to stick a knife into our back when we aren't looking! The more you do so, the more emboldened these strikes will become! Unless we meet him head-on, things will only get worse before they get better!"

A part of him felt guilty deep down for speaking to his sister like this, especially after she'd taken on the task of raising Lissa and him from an early age and shielding them from as many of the evils and difficulties that came with their position as royalty as she could have. However, he just couldn't let this slide, as much as he understood her desire for peace. He wanted for a war as much as she did, which is to say not at all… but was it wise to blindly hold onto that belief of settling disputes through peaceful means when the situation at the Plegia-Ylisse border was so dire and tensions were at an all-time high?

"The last war – the Plegian Crusades our father started – nearly ruined the halidom," Emmeryn replied solemnly, still choosing to meet Chrom's fury with the same gentle serenity. "Or have you already forgotten?"

Chrom flinched. "So many…" he said quietly. "So many were left homeless while they starved and grieve for lost loved ones…"

He'd been young during those desperate years, but the memories of the difficulties they'd all had to endure – Emmeryn, most of all – were always in his mind. They were dark times he'd rather not revisit… but did that mean he had to simply allow Gangrel to do as he pleased?

Seeing that her point had been made, Emmeryn sighed lightly. "So you _do_ remember. Tell me, then: would you truly have such a tragedy repeat itself?"

"It's going to repeat itself regardless if you don't do something, sister," Chrom replied, his anger still present but lacking much of its earlier venom. "The Plegians have stopped with their probing and posturing. The threat of a full-scale invasion is _real_, and you just can't ignore it anymore!"

Emmeryn closed her eyes and let out a breath. "… I do not lie when I say I share your frustrations, Brother." She opened her eyes and regarded everyone at the table. "However, I refuse to make the same mistakes that our father made during his reign as Exalt."

"… So what will you do, then, Your Grace?" Robin asked quietly.

Emmeryn simply gave the tactician a solemn look. "I will offer parley with King Gangrel, and seek a peaceful resolution to this situation."

Lissa gasped. "Emm, no! You can't!" she cried. "That's too dangerous!"

"I concur, Your Grace," Phila added as she rose to her feet. "I must ask that you reconsider; he cannot be trusted to act in good faith!"

Emmeryn lifted her gaze to meet her knight's own. She did _not_ look pleased in the slightest.

"So you would have me choose between marching to war or leaving Lady Maribelle to die?" She shook her head, sending locks of long blonde hair swaying with the motion. "No. I refuse to accept that those are the only possible courses of action."

Phila recoiled slightly, taking a step back at the Exalt's uncharacteristic rebuke. "F-forgive me, Your Grace. I spoke out of turn," she said as she took a knee, head bowed in contrition. "I know that you will always stand by your principles and your beliefs. However, I pray that you will at least allow me and my knights to accompany you."

"We'll be going, too," Chrom added firmly. "If you're not willing to commit the entire army, then I'll make sure that at least _someone_ will be there to save you from your own good intentions."

Lissa raised her hand. "Yeah! And I want to be there for both you _and_ Maribelle!"

Emmeryn blinked once, slowly, before her lips turned up in a soft, small smile.

"As you wish," she said, finally agreeing. "You have my thanks. May your strength be as my own."

Chrom nodded. "The Shepherds will prepare to depart, then. Frederick, Robin, Lissa, let's go."

With that said the prince excused himself and turned to head for the war room's exit, beckoning Lissa to follow him as Frederick moved to open the door for his liege.

The two younger royal siblings hadn't even taken ten steps from the table when Robin, who'd been watching silently for most of the proceedings, finally decided to speak up.

"Chrom… before you go, I would ask a question."

All eyes turned to face the white-haired tactician of the Shepherds, who had risen to his feet and was now gazing at Chrom with an unreadable expression.

Chrom tilted his head in question. "Yes, Robin? What is it?"

Robin closed his eyes for a brief moment – long enough for him to take in a deep breath – before looking Chrom right in the eye.

"Chrom, I need to ask: would you truly have war?"

Seemingly taken aback by the question, the prince averted his gaze, eyes staring into the distance for several long moments as he contemplated his answer. Robin felt himself frown; judging by how long Chrom was taking to answer, he immediately knew that this was _not_ going to be good.

Robin could feel – and see, out of the corner of his eye – Emmeryn's appraising gaze on him, the Exalt no doubt wondering what his intentions were with this question. On the other hand, he could clearly see Frederick frowning in displeasure at having his lord questioned in such a manner.

_'Definitely no surprises there,'_ Robin thought. _'You might not like it, Freddie, but some things have to be asked.'_

Eventually, Chrom let out a sigh – a long, heavy one that let Robin know what the answer was before he even said it – as he turned his gaze back to his white-haired, hazel-eyed tactician.

"… If the final decision were up to me, yes," Chrom replied lowly, keeping his gaze completely focused on Robin and avoiding Emmeryn's own searching eyes as much as possible. "Those Plegian dogs won't see reason, as much as Emm wants to believe that they will. If fighting a war is the only way I can end this madness, then fight a war I will. I'll do it alone if I have to, but I refuse to simply stand by and watch as my country and my people suffer at the hands of dastards like Gangrel."

Robin nodded. "… I see…"

Chrom frowned. "Robin? Is something wrong?"

The tactician shook his head. "No, no, nothing's wrong…" he replied distantly, before refocusing on his captain once more. "Please go on ahead, Chrom. I have some things left to take care of, so I'll just catch up later."

"Oh… U-understood," Chrom said, clearly unconvinced, but unwilling to press the issue. "I'll… see you back at the barracks, then."

With his piece said, the prince left, Lissa giving Robin a questioning glance as she followed her older brother out the door. Frederick shot the tactician a final glare of warning, before he followed in the footsteps of his two charges.

As soon as the door had closed behind Frederick, Robin finally allowed his strength to leave him as he sank heavily into his chair. Suddenly tired beyond belief, the tactician brought his hands up to rub his face, letting out a long and deep sigh as he did so.

"I shouldn't have done that…" he mumbled into his hands. "Stupid, stupid, stupid…"

"And what makes you say that, my friend?" a gentle voice cut in. "Do you truly think your question so foolish?"

Robin froze mid-rub. _'Oh, gods…'_

He quickly lowered his hands from his face, finding that the Exalt – an inquisitive gaze directed right at him – was still seated at the head of the table.

"F-forgive me, Your Grace," the tactician said, face warming as he straightened his posture. "I forgot that you were still here. Please forgive my impertinence."

Emmeryn shook her head, smiling softly. "Pay it no mind, Robin," she replied, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "The meeting is over, and I know you meant no disrespect. Besides, even Phila will agree that – away from the public eye, of course – a slight loosening of decorum is not so frowned upon."

Phila almost smiled as she bowed at the waist. "Of course, Your Grace."

Robin let out a sigh of relief, allowing himself to visibly relax. However, his lighter mood was short-lived as he watched the Exalt's own smile dim and then disappear completely, the atmosphere becoming just that little bit heavier again as Emmeryn took on a more severe expression.

"That aside, I would hear your thoughts on the situation that now faces us, Robin," Emmeryn said. "And, please, feel free to speak freely. I would like it if you aired everything on your mind."

The tactician frowned. "_My_ thoughts, Your Grace?" he asked. "I'm just a lowly tactician of unknown origins. Why would you want to hear my–"

Emmeryn's expression softened. "You are in the enviable position of not being tied down by the constraints of rank or command," she replied easily. "With the potential peril facing us right now, I would like to consult all available points of view, even if the members of my council feel that yours is not an opinion worth hearing. However, I believe otherwise; I think _your_ input, in particular, would be most welcomed and valuable."

Robin was taken aback. He hadn't expected the _Exalt_ to actually hold that high an opinion of him and openly say as much, especially given her stance and general views on warfare. Sure, he had received praise from Chrom and Lissa and some of the other Shepherds like Sully and Virion, but that had only come after he'd proven his mettle on the field of battle.

Emmeryn's recognition would have normally filled Robin with some sort of elation and pride, which was what had happened when he'd found favour with Flavia and Basilio. However, the Exalt's words had a much different effect on the tactician as for the first time he began to doubt his own abilities and sense of worth. It wasn't even that he was taking the two Khans' praise or their – admittedly high – opinions of him for granted, but he acknowledged that the feeling of pride he'd felt then had stemmed from the fact that their acknowledgement of him was more in the sense of respect from one warrior to another.

It was a completely different feeling altogether to have Emmeryn – the very definition of peace and everything that stood opposite to what a tactician like him was meant to do – extending that same unshakeable faith that had led Chrom to taking him in all those weeks ago.

For the first time, Robin had felt the weight of expectation coming from someone who was so far above and beyond the scope of his own duties and responsibilities that he'd have perceived them to be unreachable outside whatever connections he had to Chrom and Lissa. Simply put, the pressures that had come from it had unnerved him – even frightened him.

"Robin… is something the matter?"

The tactician snapped up, finding the Exalt's quiet eyes searching his own features, concern clearly reflected in the deep emerald pools.

"I… I'm fine…" he lied, taking in as deep a breath as he could to settle himself without making it obvious to the Exalt he was agitated. "I… I just need a moment or two to collect my thoughts, Your Grace."

Emmeryn smiled knowingly as if in understanding, but there was something in her expression that made Robin feel like the Exalt could see right through him.

"I understand; the request _was_ quite sudden of me, wasn't it?" she commented, her expression portraying understanding even as her smile continued to give Robin the impression that she'd seen right through his little fib with practiced ease. "Please, take what time you may need."

The tactician nodded his thanks and closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as he did so. He sent out a silent plea to whatever gods out there that were listening, asking them to grant him the wisdom, the eloquence, and the confidence that he was suddenly lacking and definitely needed right here and now, faced as he was with the Exalt's expectations that could only have been born out of the confidence Chrom and Lissa held in him.

He had to show that their faith hadn't been misplaced.

"… Alright," he said, opening his eyes once more as he steeled himself. "I'm ready. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."

Emmeryn extended a hand. "Think nothing of it. Please proceed, Tactician Robin."

Robin laced his fingers together in front of his face. This opening statement was certainly going to be met with some disagreement.

"To start with, Your Grace…" he began. "I believe we're approaching a time where Yilisse's swords can no longer be for display. With the situation as tense as it is now, we – you, to be more precise – can no longer hide behind lofty ideals and aspirations like achieving peace with Plegia through dialogue. It's… well, it's naïve, at best."

The white-haired tactician barely supressed a smile as his prediction was proven correct almost instantly.

Phila narrowed her eyes as she stepped forward. "You dare–!"

_'__Hah. As expected. What _is_ it with members of the Exalted bloodline and their knights' nearly fanatical devotion?'_

Before the veteran knight could make a move or say anything else, a raised hand from Emmeryn stopped her in her tracks.

"Peace, Phila," was the calm admonishment from the Exalt, who did not even so much as glance at her knight.

The falcon knight turned to face her liege. "But, Your Grace, he–!"

"Is giving me the very insight I asked of him," Emmeryn said simply, her tone one of calm finality. "Allow Tactician Robin to speak his mind."

Seeing that there would be no swaying the Exalt, Phila simply bowed in silent acquiescence and obediently returned to her place at Emmeryn's shoulder. While the falcon knight had been chastised for her earlier impulse, it didn't quite stop her from glowering at Robin and letting the tactician know exactly what she thought about him.

Robin sighed inaudibly. _'Message received, and I doubt you'd believe me if I told you it wasn't my intent to insult anyone or their beliefs.'_

Nodding to indicate her satisfaction, Emmeryn returned her full attention to the tactician seated across from her.

"I apologize for the interruption, Robin. Please, proceed with what you were going to say."

The tactician shook his head. "It's no issue. I apologize if my statements came across the wrong way," he replied easily. "However, I will stand by my opinion. From what I know of the history between Plegia and Ylisse, their king won't care for your desires for peace. I admire your unwavering belief in the path of peace, I really do… but you can't expect everyone else to share your views. That sort of naiveté is only going to lead Ylisse into a disaster that it might not ever be able to fully recover from."

Emmeryn blinked once, slowly. "So you would advocate for war, the way my brother has?"

"Of course not."

"Oh?" The Exalt couldn't help but raise her eyebrow at Robin's instant reply.

Robin shook his head. "A full-scale war isn't something Ylisse is remotely ready for," he continued. "As you've stated before, the halidom and its people are still recovering from the last one they had to go through. We need to avoid going to war as much as possible until all other options have been exhausted and we have no other recourse but to withdraw the olive branch and brandish our swords."

Emmeryn frowned in thought. "And yet you claim that the route of diplomacy is a fool's errand."

He sighed tiredly. "I know it sounds hypocritical of me, but that's the situation we find ourselves in," he admitted. "We're in a difficult enough position that there's no solution that's clearly a better alternative than the other… but I definitely think that we can't protect Ylisse if you're so wholly focused on trying to get the peace talks to succeed that you fail to see anything else that's happening right before your eyes."

Robin could see Phila looking like she wanted to throttle him, but he couldn't stop now. Emmeryn had asked him for an honest assessment of the situation, and he was giving her his two pieces of gold because she really needed to hear it.

"Your Grace, I know you think that you have to try and resolve this through dialogue," Robin replied. "However, I would advise that you don't bank solely on a diplomatic solution. From what I've heard about King Gangrel, I'm almost certain that war _will_ come, whether you want it to or not."

He ran a hand through his hair as he saw the troubled look on Emmeryn's features. "… Okay, look, I'm not saying that you should forsake your peace talks in favour of engaging in mindless slaughter. What I _am_ saying is that you shouldn't allow yourself to be so caught up in your pacifism that you're unprepared for when war _does_ come. You may not want for it… but that doesn't mean you should allow yourself to be unprepared for it."

The Exalt was quiet as she seemed to process Robin's words. For his part, Robin held his tongue, waiting for the inevitable response. He'd already said what needed to be said. Now all that remained was to hear her response.

After what felt like an eternity yet could only have been a few minutes, Emmeryn finally spoke again, but the words certainly weren't what Robin expected to hear.

"… I understand," she said quietly, before her eyes rose to meet the tactician's again. Robin flinched, seeing the sadness reflected in her eyes and smile that was no doubt of his doing. "I had always believed in the path of peace. I suppose I shouldn't have been so naïve and complacent to believe that only words and beliefs would have been enough to protect my people, should I?"

Robin looked down, guilt instantly welling up within him. This was _not_ what he'd intended to happen when he decided to be honest and give the Exalt his unabridged opinion on their situation.

"No, I didn't mean to imply as such. I… I apologize for speaking out of turn, Your Grace," he said hurriedly. "I shouldn't have been so–"

"I hold no ill feelings toward you, Tactician Robin."

Robin quickly raised his head, his surprised hazel eyes meeting the Exalt's gentle emerald. They were still sad, but there was also a sense of acceptance in them, as if she'd come to terms with certain truths.

"I would be lying if I said your words have not done me harm," she continued. "Being told you are wrong is never an easy thing to take."

The tactician frowned. "You aren't wrong in wanting peace, Your Grace."

Emmeryn's smile became just that little bit more self-depreciating. "Yes… but, perhaps I was wrong in making decisions based on expectations that may or may not be true," she replied. "Perhaps you are right when you say I have been so focused on staying true to my own beliefs that I have become blind to the realities of our situation. I fear that I would not have realized it until it was too late had I not had someone else tell me as much in so brazen a manner much like you have done now. Chrom, for all the bravado he showed earlier, still has that last frontier he refuses to cross. You, on the other hand… are not quite so inhibited."

Robin felt his cheeks warm at the remark. He _had_ been really sticking his neck out when he'd gone on his little display without a care for the potential repercussions of his words. As it was, he could only wonder how his head was still where it was given that he'd essentially insulted the highest power in the halidom and done so right in her face.

_'__If Emmeryn's temperament were any different, I would have been marched off to the gallows by now…'_

"That said… I will still attempt diplomacy one last time. I will still hold out on the hope that King Gangrel may be able to see reason."

Robin nodded. "I hadn't expected that to change, Your Grace."

Emmeryn let out a soft laugh. "I suppose that shouldn't have come as a surprise to you, after all," she replied, before growing serious once more. "However, while I still hope that diplomacy will prevail, I will give orders for the army to begin preparing for possible conflict."

Robin's eyes widened as Phila whipped about, fixing her liege with a wide-eyed stare that betrayed her shock.

"Your Grace, are you certain?" the falcon knight asked, her normally stern tone of voice melting into one that showed as much surprise as her expression. "You _do_ realize that the councilors will protest. Some may even suggest that this may be a prelude to a return of your father's ways!"

Emmeryn turned to face her knight. "Peace, Phila. I understand your fears, but I am certain this is the correct course of action," she replied. "I will not give up on a peaceful resolution… but I also feel that Tactician Robin's opinion has merit and should not simply be discarded. He is right when he says that we cannot and should not be complacent while we make a final attempt at negotiations."

Robin couldn't have been any more speechless at the turn of events. The Exalt had asked for his opinion and he'd expressed it – unabridged misgivings and all – to the best of his ability. He most certainly hadn't expected his views on the situation to shape Ylisse's foreign policy moving forward. The unresponsive tactician stared in amazement, completely gobsmacked over what had just happened.

Seeing the white-haired tactician's stunned expression, Emmeryn couldn't help but stifle a giggle with her hand.

"You have my thanks for your honesty, Robin," she said, eyes twinkling with barely concealed mirth. "I can see now why my siblings look so highly upon your abilities as a tactician, my friend. You are possessed of a wisdom that I count myself blessed to be able to rely on. Their faith – and mine – has certainly not been misplaced thus far."

Emmeryn's words seemed to pull the tactician back into reality, the white-haired young man flushing lightly as he realized that he _was_, in fact, still seated before the Exalt.

"I-it was nothing," he stammered out, his mind still trying to make sense of everything. "Thank you, Y-Your Grace. That… that's very high praise."

Emmeryn smiled knowingly. "And praise well deserved, I must add," she remarked. "However, I believe I've kept you long enough. Thank you for your time, Robin. You may take your leave. I understand that you have preparations to make thanks to my brother volunteering the Shepherds as escorts."

"Y-yes… b-by your leave, Your Grace… Thank you for your time, as well," he said, hurriedly standing and giving the Exalt a rushed half-bow before fleeing the room with all due haste.

So light-headed and out of sorts was the flustered tactician that he completely missed the discussion happening behind him.

"Robin is… quite interesting, wouldn't you say, Phila?" she remarked. "I was most impressed listening to him. He spoke with the supreme confidence only a born leader might have, but at the same time he did so without ever allowing an air of superiority or condescension to lace his words. If one did not actually lay eyes on Robin, they may expect someone years older to be saying the things he did."

For her part, the falcon knight couldn't help but nod in grudging respect. "Yes… even if he decides to be a flustered, self-conscious shambles the very moment he's done offering criticisms that border on insults to Your Grace."

"Quite, but you have to admit that his personality is very much a breath of fresh air." Emmeryn chuckled for a moment, before taking on a more solemn expression. "Mirth aside, what do you think? Is Tactician Robin actually someone who might one day be worthy of the title of Grandmaster?"

Phila shrugged. "I think that it's far too early to tell, Your Grace," the knight replied. "While I can agree with Prince Chrom when he says that he believes that Tactician Robin has the potential… I wish to withhold my judgement on the matter. He has yet to be truly tested, after all."

Emmeryn nodded. "Yes… I agree…" she murmured, thoughtfully.

* * *

Chrom continued walking with single-minded purpose towards the Shepherds' barracks. He was most definitely in a foul mood, judging by the grim look on his features and the tight grip his hand had on Falchion. How could he not, be, though? His elder sister refused to budge on her path of peace even when it was plain for all to see that war was already upon them!

He quickened his stride, Frederick and Lissa both struggling to keep pace with the prince. By virtue of silent agreement, the princess and knight both decided to keep quiet until Chrom himself spoke up; the last thing either wanted to do was aggravate what was already a very agitated Ylissean prince.

They didn't have to wait long, though, because Chrom suddenly began barking out instructions for their deployment.

"I know the honor guard will be accompanying the Exalt wherever she goes, but we'll still be taking what units our jurisdiction covers," he called back as he walked. "If Emm refuses to mobilize the army, then we should at least make sure that we can give her adequate protection if Plegia does indeed prove treacherous. I'd rather come prepared for a fight, especially given their recent actions."

Frederick nodded. "Understood, Milord."

"Take stock of our inventory and our unit strength, and make sure all the troops are properly outfitted," the prince said as he continued to rattle off orders. "Make two copies of the roster and make sure Robin gets one of the copies when he returns so he can adjust our deployment plans to take our increased numbers into account."

The big knight furrowed his brow. "Robin, Milord?" he asked. "Would it not be more prudent to assign a task of this magnitude to a more known quantity like one of Ylisse's senior tacticians?"

Sighing irritably, Chrom stopped walking and turned to face the man who was both his steward and his lieutenant. His expression was not amused in the slightest.

"We've been over this already, Frederick," he said, unable to fully mask the frustration he was feeling. "I trust our senior tacticians as far as they can run before collapsing, and that's not a considerable distance by any stretch of the imagination. Besides, Robin has given us nothing but sound advice since joining the Shepherds. Why can't you see him for what good he's done rather than for what your paranoia is imagining he might do?! Do you think my decision to put my trust in him is so flawed that you must question me at every turn?!"

"I did not mean to show disrespect to Milord," Frederick replied. "But someone has to remain vigilant when you clearly will not. He has done good work as a tactician, but until we are certain of Sir Robin's identity and origins, then my suspicions will not be laid to rest."

Chrom glared at Frederick, clearly upset by his knight's obstinacy.

"… Alright, Frederick, I'm going to say this in a way I'm sure you'll be able to understand," he said after a moment's pause, clearly trying to reign in his flaring temper. "You can think badly of Robin all you want, but when we're on the battlefield, he's the Shepherds' appointed tactician, which means his orders are – by extension – my own. So, unless he's proven that he's unfit for command, you're duty-bound as a soldier of the realm and as my subordinate to respect and obey him. Am I understood?"

Frederick grimaced at having been chastised so thoroughly, but nonetheless inclined his head in acquiescence.

"… Understood, Milord."

Chrom nodded stiffly. "Good. You have your orders, then," he said in dismissal.

As Frederick spun on his heel to go see to his duties, Chrom sighed and raised a hand to scratch at the back of his head in frustration.

_'__Was I too harsh?'_ he asked himself, watching as Frederick walked down the hall, the knight's armored boots clicking against the marble tiles.

He shook his head. _'Of course I was too harsh. Being on edge over this whole situation isn't an excuse.'_

"Frederick!" he called out, his knight stopping in his tracks at the sound of his name and turning to face him once more.

"Milord?" the great knight asked, understandably confused.

"For what it's worth, your vigilance is appreciated," the prince said, feeling the need to ensure there were no misunderstandings that would affect unit cohesion or morale. "That said, you have to keep it within reason, and know how to see when your behaviour is a detriment more than a boon. You can't keep questioning Robin, especially in front of the other Shepherds, or it may lead to dissension in the ranks. You can't deny that he's more than capable, so at least learn to cooperate with him."

Frederick frowned. "… Is that an order, sire?" he asked.

Chrom sighed. "If it was, you'd definitely obey without question, but it would also defeat the purpose of me telling you this," he replied. "It's a request, Frederick. I'm not asking as the Prince of Ylisse, or as Captain of the Shepherds. I'm asking as your friend and your comrade-in-arms."

"… Very well, Milord," Frederick replied after a brief pause. "I will… attempt to cooperate with Tactician Robin, misgivings aside."

Chrom nodded, satisfied. "That's all I could really ask for, Frederick. Thank you for understanding. You're dismissed."

As Frederick departed, Chrom couldn't help but wonder whether he was doing the right thing in actively trying to nip this particular problem in the bud instead of letting things tide over more naturally.

"Something wrong, Big Brother?" Lissa suddenly spoke up, reminding Chrom that his younger sister _was_ still present. "You seem more than a little bothered by something."

Sighing, Chrom turned to face his younger sister.

"Am I… handling this right, Lissa?" he asked. "

Beside him, his sister put a hand on his arm in comfort. "You're doing what you think is best, Chrom. I think that's all you can really ask of yourself."

Chrom frowned in thought. _'Yes, but… is what I think to be best really _the_ best…?'_

* * *

Location: Exalt's Palace, Shepherds' Barracks

Robin sighed tiredly, running a hand through his snow-white hair as he leaned back to examine the cause of his stress.

He'd retreated to the Shepherds' barracks after the conversation with Emmeryn, hoping to be alone with his thoughts for at least a little while. However, he hadn't even been back in the barracks for thirty minutes before he'd been pretty much ambushed by Frederick.

After updating him on the situation, the big knight had handed the tactician a _much_ expanded unit roster and a corresponding equipment and supply list before going on to inform him of Chrom's orders to prepare deployment plans to account for their increase in numbers thanks to the prince mobilizing troops from the Ylissean Army that were under his jurisdiction.

Robin had resisted the urge to point out to Frederick that, as royalty, Chrom technically had the entire army under his jurisdiction and that he only needed to exercise his power as such to get them moving. However, the potential for more work than he already had overrode whatever temptation to engage in sarcasm the tactician may have been harbouring.

Regardless of whatever thoughts Robin may have had, Chrom's orders were Chrom's orders; hence, the current state of affairs that had been the tactician's company for most of the day.

Sprawled out on the table were numerous maps detailing the continent of Ylisse, the country of the same name to which he now found himself aligned – and upon finding out that Ylisse was the name for both country and continent he had resolved to find out just whose bright idea it was for a country and continent to share a name – and the western region closest to the border that separated the Halidom from the Theocracy of Plegia.

Aside from the maps he was using, numerous books and tomes of strategy, combat, and magic that he'd managed to 'borrow' from the palace library were stacked up to one side of the table in two piles, with a third pile occupying a chair he'd appropriated for just that purpose. His coat was draped over the back of his own chair, the enchanted garment normally a blessing when in combat or the colder climates of Regna Ferox, but an absolute nightmare in the much warmer weather Ylisstol was currently experiencing.

What was truly horrifying was, as much work as he had to deal with, the numbers on the lists he'd been given indicated that he was only dealing with a company of Ylissean troops. When that piece of information had sank in, Robin had sighed to himself and wondered just how much harder it would have been had he had to draft plans for a larger force.

_'__Naga forbid I have to deal with a battalion or, even worse, the entire Ylissean army…' _Robin thought with a grimace. Handling a hundred and fifty troops on just his second assignment as tactician of the Shepherds was quite the vote of confidence from Chrom, although the added responsibilities that came with handling a larger number of soldiers also carried with it additional pressure that he didn't quite feel like he was ready to handle.

He was already having a hard enough time just dealing with the doubts that had crept up on him earlier during his conversation with Exalt Emmeryn. The last thing he really needed was something else compounding his anxieties, yet here he was agonizing over how to go about fulfilling Chrom's orders and justifying the faith and trust he'd been shown several times over the past weeks.

Robin sighed again as he placed his head into his hands and wondered why things had to be so difficult.

"That was quite the sigh," a voice said, pulling the tactician from his thoughts.

He looked up blearily, finding Sumia leaning down and smiling kindly.

"Oh, hello, Sumia," he said, trying to be polite even when he was tired and operating on an extremely short fuse.

The rookie pegasus knight put a hand on the chair next to his and across the one occupied by one of his book stacks, her expression clearly asking if he was fine with her sitting at his table even when he was clearly buried in work.

When the tactician gave her the go-ahead gesture, Sumia smiled in thanks before pulling it out for herself and taking a seat.

"Now… penny for your thoughts, Sir Tactician?" she asked once she was comfortable, teasingly using Robin's title to get him to loosen up. Upon said tactician giving her a confused look, Sumia giggled slightly before continuing. "Your facial expression _does_ give you away, Robin. For all your ability to keep your composure on the battlefield, you're awfully easy to read when off it. I can tell you're dealing with something unpleasant."

Robin raised an eyebrow, as if to say _'Oh, really? Enlighten me.'_

Sumia's smile turned cheeky. "It's not that hard to tell, you know," she replied, again reading his expression perfectly. "For one thing, you've been sighing a _lot_ over the past half-hour… even more than Cordelia usually does."

"Cordelia?" the tactician asked quizzically. _'A friend of hers, perhaps?'_

Sumia gasped slightly. "Oh! That's right, you haven't met her yet," she commented. "Silly me. Cordelia's a fellow pegasus knight, and also my best friend. Hopefully you'll be able to meet her, Robin. I think you'd get along quite well!"

_'__Bingo.'_

Robin nodded. "I see. If she's your fellow knight, then maybe we might cross paths someday," he said thoughtfully, before refocusing on the topic at hand. "Still, what else have I been doing that makes you think I'm… 'dealing with something unpleasant'?"

The pegasus knight smiled. "You've buried your head in your hands twice or three times already, and that's not something you've done much. You also look like you're… well, distracted by something else besides your work. You paused quite often just to stare at something, which usually came along with the aforementioned sighing. That's not typical Robin behavior."

Robin crossed his arms. "If it's that obvious, then why hasn't anyone else said anything about it?"

Here, Sumia giggled. "Robin, everyone's been outside training and helping with the preparations the whole afternoon. No one's dropped by in the common room for hours," she said. "Of course no one would say anything."

Robin paused. His mind blanked for a moment as it finally registered the fact that the rays of light streaming in through the windows were the striking orange of the setting sun rather than the golden glow of midday. The ensuing, if momentary, silence was deafening to the point one could have heard a pin drop over the muffled sounds of activity coming from outside the building's walls.

The tactician felt his cheeks heat up as he realized he'd been so focused on his tasks that he'd gone most of the day without recognizing the passage of time.

"Oh," he said dumbly, bringing a hand up to massage at his tired eyes. "I really _am_ out of it, aren't I?"

_'__Gods, have I just spent the whole afternoon working…?'_

Sumia gave Robin a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "Yes, but don't think we don't appreciate your hard work," she said kindly. "We're all aware of the difficulties of your job, and we're thankful you're there to guide us in battle."

Robin hummed appreciatively. "Hmm…it's not quite so bad, though. It's all so familiar to me that I think I was doing something similar to this before I woke up in that field."

Sumia couldn't help but giggle slightly. "With how well adjusted you seem, I sometimes forget you're essentially only about a month old."

"Hasn't stopped what appear to be a million bad habits from sprouting up, though."

The pegasus knight frowned. "Oh, really? Like what?"

"Working until my fingers are falling off, my eyes are bleeding, my stomach is beginning to digest itself, and my sense of time has been thrown completely and totally out the window."

Sumia crossed her arms for a moment before her frown melted into a warm smile.

"Alright, Robin, I'll give you that," she said. "I'm no good in tactics and I'm only average in fighting, but I can at least help you out by looking after your well-being, especially since you don't seem to do it yourself."

Robin wanted to tell Sumia that she was wrong in her assessment – that she held more worth than she thought – but said girl beat him to the punch before he could even get a word out.

"Well, looks like the Captain's here," she commented, Robin's eyebrows raising as he tried to comprehend what leaps of logic she'd used to arrive at that statement. "Don't hesitate to come to me if something's bothering you, alright?"

"R-right… thanks, Sumia," Robin said. "I appreciate having friends like you who I can count on."

The pegasus knight gave the tactician a smile as she rose to her feet, giving him a wave before making her way out into the main hallway. She said a few words to someone outside the doorway before almost tripping over her own two feet had a pair of hands not shot out to steady her.

He watched with a mix of curiosity and bemusement as Sumia's face made a decent impression of a tomato, the suddenly flustered pegasus knight making panicked hand motions before quickly fleeing the scene of her near-accident and nearly getting into another one on the way judging by the clattering sounds from the hallway.

Robin's bemused smile gave way to a knowing one filled with genuine amusement as a confused looking Chrom passed through the open archway and into the common room, looking quite out of sorts and a little flustered himself as he made his way over to the tactician's table.

_'__Ah… now I see what happened,'_ he thought to himself, unable to wipe the silly grin from his face. _'It was Chrom who caught Sumia. Oh, who would have guessed I'd enjoy having a cliché love story play out right before my eyes…'_

The prince dropped himself into the chair across from Robin with a groan, putting his head into his hands and muttering unintelligibly about something or other that Robin couldn't quite catch.

"Tough afternoon?" Robin asked when there was a short lull in Chrom's one-man self-pity party.

Chrom grunted in reply – which Robin took to mean 'yes' – before going back to his muttering.

The tactician simply chose to wait silently this time, allowing Chrom to sort himself out on his own terms. His patience was rewarded after a few minutes, when Chrom grew silent and offered up a sigh.

"So…" Robin ventured, waiting to see if Chrom would give him his attention. Once he was sure he had the prince's attention, Robin grinned and dropped the bomb. "… You and Sumia, hm?"

Chrom flushed. "I-It's not like that at all, Robin!"

Robin crossed his arms. "Sure, it isn't," he commented sarcastically. "Just as sure as me actually remembering everything."

Chrom paused for a moment. "… Wait, do you?" he asked, a little bit of hope and excitement in his expression as he leaned forward just a little bit too eagerly.

"Of course not."

Chrom suddenly deflated. "Oh."

Robin grinned in victory for a moment before growing serious once more.

"What's happened, Chrom?" he asked. "And don't try denying it, I can tell from your expression that something's wrong."

The prince shook his head. "We just received another report from one of our pegasus knight squads on border patrol. Another village near the border was attacked earlier today… probably while we were having our war council this morning. The messenger just made it back an hour or so ago."

Robin leaned back and sighed. Another one… yet more lives lost for no reason.

"These attacks are growing bolder and more frequent by the day…" the prince lamented as he turned his gaze down to look at a spot on the table. "Why can't Emm see that we're past the point where diplomacy is the best course of action?"

Robin frowned. _'Hmm… so Emmeryn hasn't told him yet…'_

Chrom shook his head. "I can't understand her, Robin. I just can't…"

"Maybe because you don't understand what it means to be in her position."

The prince's gaze snapped up to the tactician. "What? What do you mean?" he asked, his expression betraying the surprise he felt at Robin's statement.

Robin's expression was calm, but deep down he was just as surprised as Chrom looked, if not even more so. He wondered where his reaction had come from… and whether it might have been a remnant of his old personality making its way through the fog of amnesia.

Regardless of what it was, he certainly couldn't leave Chrom hanging after having said something like that.

_'__Should I try to play it off as nothing, or…?'_

It took a moment of thought for Robin to try and work out how best to respond, but he figured that taking the same honest approach as he did with Emmeryn certainly wasn't going to be catastrophic. Judging by how that conversation had turned out, some good may even come out of it.

"… Well, you're both royalty, but your responsibilities couldn't be any more different," the tactician said. "Chrom, you're the captain of a militia unit that responds to bandit threats or performs special tasks that the regular army can't. I'm not demeaning you or the Shepherds when I say this, but the scope of Emmeryn's duties and responsibilities as Exalt are _far_ beyond anything that either of us can do. You both have your people's interests at heart, but… I can only say that you're far more short-sighted than she is."

Chrom nearly rose out of his seat, face flushed with anger as his hands lunged forward grabbed fistfuls of the tactician's coat, scattering maps and parchments and knocking over several books from the table in the process.

"Short-sighted?! How _dare_ you–!"

Robin refused to flinch before Chrom's anger, eyes suddenly hardening as a foreign – but strangely familiar – emotion settled within him.

"Sit, Chrom," he said coldly. "That sort of reaction is precisely what Gangrel wishes to provoke and what Emmeryn seeks to avoid at all costs."

Surprised at the sudden change in his friend's demeanor, Chrom's grip slackened, allowing Robin to ease the other man's hands down to the table before gently pushing him back down into his seat.

Using the few moments of pause that he'd been granted, Robin tugged at his coat and fixed his appearance before bringing some level of order back to the organized mess on his table. He left the books and parchments scattered on the floor where they lay; he'd deal with that once he was done speaking with Chrom.

He gave it a moment more of quiet contemplation once he was done, before letting out a sigh and speaking once more.

"Are we calm now?" he asked.

The response seemed to jolt Chrom out of his thoughts, the prince blinking rapidly as he seemed to remember where he was.

"R-right… I'm sorry, Robin. I shouldn't have–"

Robin waved it off. "Water under the bridge, don't worry about it," he replied nonchalantly. "You've helped illustrate my point, though. You're reacting based only your emotions, and that's not a good thing in the slightest. I can understand your sentiments when you call for a war against Plegia, but from what I've seen Ylisse isn't even remotely prepared in the slightest for a full-scale war."

He held up a hand to forestall the reply that was already forming on Chrom's lips.

"I know what you're going to say. You're going to repeat what you told Emmeryn earlier, that war's already at our doorstep," he said. "Believe me, I understand that much. But any war we fight will _have_ to be defensive and nothing else. The people _will_ suffer more if we haphazardly allow ourselves to get drawn into the conflict."

Chrom deflated. "I know, Robin…" he said quietly. "I know that, but whenever I hear news like this, whenever I see my people suffer, something in me just burns to pay Plegia back in kind."

Robin frowned, eyes furrowing in concern. _'Chrom…'_

He had to nip this sort of mentality in the bud before it led them – either the Shepherds or the entirety of Ylisse – into a bad situation. As much as he could sympathize with Chrom's feelings when it came to protecting his people, making decisions based on your emotions and sentiments was just asking for trouble.

At the same time, though, Chrom's self-control seemed to be balanced on a knife's edge. As tense as he was, it wouldn't take much to set him off, especially if Robin pushed the issue a little too hard; his earlier reaction proved as much. Plus, if Robin gave the prince a little too much to think about… it would be an unwelcome distraction that could potentially disrupt his focus and clarity of mind at a critical juncture.

However, maybe if he just gave Chrom a small push in the right direction…

_'__Yeah, that seems a little safer. There's less risk of things blowing up or falling apart if they talk it out.'_

"You should have a little more faith in your sister, Chrom," Robin said. "She knows what she's doing. As much as she advocates peace, she's not as blinded by her ideals as you may think."

Chrom furrowed his brow. "You almost sound like you know something I don't," he stated.

Robin shrugged. "I _do_ know something you don't," he replied, resisting the urge to add 'a lot of things' to his proclamation. "However, it's not my place to talk about her plans – you should just ask her yourself, really. I _will_ say this, though: just because she doesn't want to go to war doesn't mean she won't be prepared for a fight if it does come."

Chrom nodded quietly. "I know… it's just hard for me to stay calm and be patient like she does. I can't sit around and wait when I could be doing something instead."

Robin sighed, more to himself than to Chrom. "I figured as much," he replied. "But we shouldn't just rush in, either. That's not going to help anyone, least of all Emmeryn or Maribelle."

He gave Chrom what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Just trust in Emmeryn, Chrom."

The prince nodded again. "Right… I'm sorry for always dumping everything onto you, Robin. I know I don't make your job any easier by talking to you about all my frustrations."

Robin couldn't help but chuckle dryly. "Well, someone has to give you sound, logical advice so you and Frederick don't just go charging in headfirst."

The two men shared a laugh at that.

"I'm sure we'd be more than likely to do what you just said without a voice of reason to caution us," Chrom said, grinning good-naturedly even as the joke was made at his expense. "We can count ourselves very lucky to have you."

Robin raised an eyebrow. "Are you for real?" he asked incredulously. "You're _still_ not seeing anything wrong with giving tactical command of your militia to someone with only a month's worth of memories?"

Chrom gave the tactician a mock scowl. "Great. Has Frederick started rubbing off on you, too?"

Said tactician only grinned cheekily, prompting a sigh from the prince.

"I think I preferred you when you were just waking up and less sure of yourself in a world where everyone was a stranger," Chrom said sourly, but the grin on his face gave the game away far too easily.

Robin chuckled for a moment.

"Well, I won't keep you from your work for much longer. I think I'll leave you be for now."

Robin nodded. "Just let me know if there are any more developments."

Chrom hummed in reply as he rose to his feet.

As the prince left his chair, the sight of Falchion sheathed on his left hip reminded Robin of a matter he had intended to bring up but had totally forgotten about in the rush of work.

The image of the masked swordswoman Marth – _Lucina _, he reminded himself – flashed through his mind, and he knew that asking about it just might be another step to figuring out just where she came from.

"Ah, Chrom," he called out, the prince stopping his movement and turning back to face him. "Before you go, I was hoping to be able to ask you about something, if you've the time."

The prince couldn't quite keep the combined surprise and amusement from his face.

"Oh? This is new. The all-knowing Tactician Robin asking for help?" he commented lightly before he turned more serious. "Well, feel free to ask. If it's something I can help you with, you know I'll do what I can to aid you."

Robin chuckled. "Well, it's nothing quite so serious," he said. "I just want to ask you a little bit about swordplay."

"Swordplay, huh?" Chrom commented curiously. "What brought this about all of a sudden?"

Robin paused for a brief moment, wondering how to explain his seemingly random interest on the subject.

"Well… you could say I was intrigued by your duel with Marth in Regna Ferox," he replied, not quite lying but not exactly giving the entire truth, either. "I could feel some sort of recognition while I was watching, but…"

The tactician shrugged helplessly. "Well, you know the drill with me by now. I was hoping you might be able to tell me more about your fighting style and help me figure out what it was I might have recognized. It might help jog a bit more of my memory."

Chrom frowned, wondering what it could have been that struck a familiar chord within Robin given that they definitely hadn't met in the past and Robin was far too young to have ever met his father…

His eyes suddenly lit up as an idea crossed his mind, one he hadn't originally considered.

"I think I might know what it is," he said. "You might have recognized elements of a school of swordplay in our fighting styles."

Now Robin looked confused. "School of… swordplay?" he asked, his confusion quickly transforming into interest.

_'Khan Basilio mentioned something about the fourth school before… is this what he meant?'_

Chrom nodded. "All swordsmen use the same basic techniques and principles, but as they learn and progress they eventually gravitate towards one of the seven schools of swordfighting." The prince rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "I'd love to tell you all about them, but I'm much better at application than I am in discussion. I'll see if I can get Frederick to give you a rundown on them, though. He knows his way around this sort of thing more than I ever could."

Robin felt his mood drop just a little bit. "Frederick, huh…"

Chrom smiled in sympathy. "Hey, chin up," the prince said. "Frederick's just wary to the point of paranoia. He's only being difficult because he's overly concerned with our safety – mine and Lissa's, I mean. It's not a reflection of what he actually thinks of you or your work."

Robin huffed. "Could have fooled me, Chrom."

The prince chuckled. "I'm serious! Once you get past the initial rough patch, he'll be much easier to work with."

"Right…" came the tactician's dubious reply. "I guess I'll just have to take your word for it."

Chrom smiled, satisfied, before he glanced at the clutter occupying the table they were seated at.

"Ah… sorry, I should have realized you'd still be busy by this time," the prince commented, his smile growing sheepish. "I guess I chose a bad time to unload all this uncertainty onto you."

Robin shrugged. "You weren't any bother," he said easily. "Don't worry about it. I _did_ need a temporary distraction, anyway. It can be absolutely mind-numbing if I keep at this for too long."

"Understandable." Chrom looked around at the piles of books surrounding the man, only now beginning to see just how far he had to go to manage their small troop. "I'm sorry I seem to make life harder for you instead of easier, Robin. Being a tactician is already difficult enough without the rest of us compounding your problems."

The tactician shrugged. "All part of the job, Chrom," he said as he picked up his quill and turned his attention back to the tactics manual he'd been perusing. "It's not easy, yes, but it's not such a bad thing. I mean, sure, the work I have to do can be difficult and stressful – and that's usually the case – but being able to see you all come home gives me a sense of fulfilment."

"I suppose…" Chrom replied uneasily, realizing that Robin turning back to his work was as close to a dismissal as the white-haired man was going to give without actually saying it. "Well, I guess I should get going; I've kept you away from your work long enough. I'll see you at dinner, hopefully?"

Robin grunted a reply that could have meant absolutely anything but which Chrom simply decided to take as a 'yes'. The tactician was distracted enough by the contents of the manual that Chrom doubted he'd even registered the question.

Deciding Robin would much rather have the peace and quiet of solitude while working, the prince stood, only bidding the preoccupied tactician a good evening before heading off to take care of any.

It wasn't long, however, before the prince spoke up once more.

"Oh, right. Robin?"

"Mm?" the tactician hummed, letting the prince know he had his attention even as his eyes focused on the manual in his hand.

"I know we don't say it very much, but we _do_ trust you – even Frederick, much as you might not believe that," Chrom said. "We know you're doing your best for us, so you can count on us to do our best for you, too."

Robin paused in his work for a brief moment, hiding the tiniest of smirks.

_'__Heh… just like Emmeryn. Good man.'_

He sighed lightly. "Thanks, Chrom," Robin replied. "I'll do my best not to let you all down."

_'__I'll try not to let _myself_ down, either…'_

* * *

Location: Exalt's Palace, Parade Grounds

Two days later, the Shepherds were finally ready to depart.

Robin couldn't help but marvel at the Ylissean troops all around him as they made their final marching preparations beneath the bright early morning sun. Platoons of light and heavy cavalry were preparing to saddle up, their steeds laden down with personal supplies the riders would need for the trip, while foot soldiers rushed to and fro, carrying spare weapons and crates, sacks and barrels of supplies that were going to be loaded up into the convoy of supply wagons that would be traveling with them.

Elsewhere, Robin knew that Commander Phila's wing of pegasus knights were also making preparations for their own departure; it was no surprise to the tactician given how adamant Ylisse's Wing Commander had been during the war council about accompanying the Exalt on this excursion, although it was rather curious that she was deploying the entire wing on this mission.

What _was_ genuinely surprising, however, was the fact that Sumia was taking her place amongst the Shepherds rather than with her knight sisters, especially given how Robin knew that pegasus knight squadrons were said to be extremely tight-knit units. How the tactician knew that he had literally no idea, the information once again popping into his mind from the deepest depths of his psyche, but Sumia _had_ confirmed it when he'd asked her if she wished to fly with her fellow pegasus knights.

The ash brown-haired pegasus knight had been adamant about being with the Shepherds, though, and Robin wasn't about to turn her away or disrespect her decision or resolve.

_'__Besides the obvious morale issues that would arise from sending her off to Commander Phila and the fact that she'd much rather be here with Chrom, I'd hate to lose my one and only aerial scout.'_

"How are preparations coming along, Robin?" Chrom said as he walked up to the tactician, Frederick ever glued to his side. "Is everyone ready to go?"

Robin turned to face his two comrades. "Just a few final sacks and crates to load up onto the wagons and we should be good to go," he replied.

_'__I still feel like we've a disaster incoming, though…'_ he thought to himself. _'I'm hoping it's just my nerves talking.'_

Chrom nodded. "Good to hear. Looks like we're going to be right on–"

"Captain!" a younger, almost child-like voice called out, making the trio turn to see a redheaded teen barely out of boyhood running up to them.

Robin appraised the young boy critically. He was short, the effects of puberty yet to have taken effect on him given his size and the tone of his voice. He was clad in the robes of a mage initiate from the Ylissean Royal Mage Academy, although the large, pointed mage hat that dwarfed the head it was resting on – almost comically so given how it flopped about with every move the boy made – marked him as a graduate of the Academy rather than a mere student.

Robin couldn't help but note the tome in his hand held many green hints on its cover. Did he focus his magical studies and applications on wind magic, perhaps?

"I'm all packed and ready to go, Captain!" the boy said, his boyish enthusiasm showing as he bounced up and down on his feet, his large traveling pack bouncing up and down along with him. "When do we leave?! Just tell me where to fall in!"

Chrom, on the other hand, did _not_ look amused in the slightest.

"Ricken?! How in the– Ugh…" Chrom groaned, putting a hand to his forehead in clear frustration. Evidently, this wasn't the first time this had happened.

"Never mind. Go back inside, you aren't coming with us," the prince said, pointing imperiously at the palace doors. "Age issues aside, you just aren't ready for this sort of mission yet."

The young mage – Ricken – pouted childishly. "But, Captain! You know my skills with magic! You know I can handle myself just fine! Your own sister's barely older than I am and she's out there with the rest of you!"

"This isn't going to be like any of our other missions, Ricken," Chrom countered. "You haven't even been on one of our missions yet, and I refuse to let this one be your first. Besides, Lissa's a healer, stationed far away from the battle front where you're likely going to have to be. She'll be in a much safer place than you'll have to be."

_'__Except for that first time where there were only four of us, you mean…'_ Robin thought dryly.

"But…"

"No 'buts'," Chrom insisted gently, but there was a firmness to his tone that brooked no arguments. "Just stay here and take care of the palace and the garrison until we get back, alright? I'd feel better knowing your magic was here to protect our home while we're away."

Turning to face his tactician, Chrom jerked his head towards the front of the formation. "Let me know when we're ready to go, Robin. I'll be up at the front if you need me."

"Right," Robin replied. "I'll just make sure everything's in order before I follow."

The prince nodded before looking at a sulking Ricken once more. "Well, I won't be able to speak to you until I get back, so here's to when we return. Be good, alright? Good lad."

As Chrom jogged off, Frederick right behind him, Robin couldn't help but chuckle.

_'__Clearly the kid's been rebellious about this sort of thing before… but still. We need every bit of help we can get. Are you sure this is the best choice, Chrom?'_

"_Be good_? Gods, how old does he think I am?!" Ricken muttered. "Well, I'll show him just how good I can be!"

Robin raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Oh, really? Do tell how you're going to accomplish that," he said, making the young mage freeze up and turn in fright.

"O-oh… S-Sir Tactician! I didn't notice you were still here," he said in a nervous voice, smiling and laughing nervously. "I-I was just joking, right? All a joke… haha…"

Robin frowned. "How serious are you about wanting to help?"

Ricken blinked, clearly confused. "Huh? You're not going to tell me to stay behind?"

"I won't," the tactician affirmed. "I have a bad feeling about this, and I'd rather have a little something extra in hand that no one will see coming. If you're willing to help and willing to follow my orders, I'll help you sneak into one of the supply wagons. It'll be a rough trip, since you'll need to stay hidden until I need you, though. What do you say?"

The young mage grinned widely, almost as if he'd just received his dream present on his birthday.

"I-I'll do whatever you need me to do!" he said, his energy and enthusiasm returning to the fore once again. "I want to help out! Please, please, please, let me go with you!"

Robin smiled easily. "Good man. Come on, then," he said, turning and trotting over to one of the supply wagons, the boy following closely at his heels.

_'__I just _know_ I'm going to get an earful from Chrom when he finds out,'_ Robin thought as he helped Ricken up into one of the wagons. If he were to be completely honest, he frankly couldn't care less if he got in trouble over this.

The tactician still couldn't shake off his misgivings about this mission to the border. Having a hidden card that he could pull out of his sleeve at a critical time might just make all the difference.

He only hoped it would make enough of a difference that he could bring everyone in the Shepherds home at the end of the day.


	9. Chapter Seven - The Exalt and the King

**Author's Note: Not much to say about why I can't seem to write any faster, but I suppose you guys are all tired hearing about my excuses. That said, my health _is_ picking up now, which is a good thing.**

**Thank you ever so much to all who've stuck with me and supported this story up till now, and I hope you all will continue to do so as we keep moving forward and getting deeper into this story setting.**

**As usual, discussions, thoughts, feedback (anything beyond two words like "Nice chapter" or "Awesome work" will be most appreciated), and questions can be sent through reviews. I do take time to read each one, and for those of you who have done so you know I DO reply when capable.**

**Also, if anyone notices the shout-outs in this chapter to previous Fire Emblem games' dialogues, do feel free to let me know. I'll be looking forward to seeing who gets it. Naga be with you all.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem Awakening, or any associated characters, weapons, concepts, etc. that are found therein.**

* * *

_**Chapter Seven ******– **** **The Exalt and the King**_

Location: Western Ylisse

Robin frowned as he examined another one of the spells contained within his tome, making notes in another piece of parchment as he tried to use what parts of his fragmented memories and knowledge he could access to decipher the ancient text and symbols that filled the page and figure out what the spell was.

Judging by the general emptiness of the parchment he was writing on, he wasn't having too much success right now besides figuring out the name of the spell – Thoron – and the fact that it was an advanced lightning spell under the school of anima magic.

_'Maybe I should pull myself back a little bit… this seems a bit too advanced for the time being…' _he thought to himself as he looked around the almost-empty mess tent. Aside from a few stragglers – mostly scouts and patrols who were taking their meals late, although Robin noted the presence of a small squad of Phila's pegasus knights who were at dinner earlier yet chose to remain here for whatever reason – the tent was virtually empty.

They were still about a day and a half away from Themis – their slower pace due to the fact that the Exalt, her honor guard, a full company of troops, and a supply convoy travelled with them – and Robin could say that the first day of marching had been more than a little… well, he didn't want to use the word, but lonely was really the only description he could come up with. Chrom and Lissa spent most of their time with Emmeryn, both when marching and when camp was being made, and the only other person he really felt somewhat close to was Sumia, who more often than not served as Robin's eyes in the sky even as Phila kept her own rotation of knights on scouting duty.

It wasn't that he doubted the capability of Phila's knights, far from it. He just preferred having one of his own up there to keep him updated of any developments.

Regardless, the general lack of company meant that Robin kept to himself for much of the journey, his nose more often than not buried in his spell tome as he tried to find out more about his previous life through the pages he _could_ open and read. However, he refused to even entertain the thought of trying to study the sealed portion that had weeks before shown him a disturbing vision of death and destruction. As strong as the temptation to open it up once more was, his senses screamed at him to stay away from something that reeked of such a malevolent aura.

_'__Still… I can't help but wonder what's in those pages. What in Naga's name is in there that someone decided it was better off sealed away…?'_

"Sir Robin."

Said named tactician jolted as the voice cut through his thoughts. He looked up from his tome, finding Frederick standing over him with his hands clasped at the small of his back. As usual, the man's armor was pristine, and his posture was perfect – ever the model knight.

"Sir Frederick, good evening," he replied courteously. "Sorry, I was a little distracted. How may I assist you?"

The big knight almost smiled. "On the contrary, it is I who will be assisting you," he replied. At Robin's confused look, the knight allowed himself a grin. "Milord made a passing mention to me last night that you showed some interest in the schools of swordplay and might have need of a little guidance; needless to say, I understood his meaning quite quickly and that is why I am here now."

_'__Ah, right. I almost forgot about that.'_

"Yes, that's right," Robin admitted. "It's sudden, I know, but don't think it's a spur-of-the-moment thing. While I was observing Chrom and Marth fighting at Arena Ferox, I felt this vauge sense of… familiarity. Like I was experiencing some sort of…"

"Déjà vu?" the knight supplied.

Robin chuckled. "Yes, déjà vu would be quite apt. Granted, I don't have my memories, but maybe I instinctively recognized something in their movements and actions as something I might have come across before. I brought it up with Chrom, and he figured I might have seen something from a school of swordplay."

Frederick nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, Milord mentioned as much to me when he spoke about your interest in the sword arts. It would explain why your current style seems to be a general amalgamation of moves that are more freestyle than anything else…"

The tactician gave the knight a resolute look. "It's a long shot, but maybe learning about swordplay might trigger a memory or something and help me remember a bit more. It's happened before with other topics, after all, so maybe it might work here, too."

"The thought behind it makes sense," Frederick commented. "Even if your memories are sealed away – if they truly are, that is, although I am starting to believe yours is not a baseless claim – the body would still remember or recognize something it has experienced or done in the past…"

Frederick gave Robin an appraising look. "If I may be so bold as to voice my own opinion, however, I do believe that this exercise will be worth the effort regardless of whether it actually helps you remember something or not."

Robin couldn't help but chuckle. "Because a tactician who knows how to defend himself is a tactician who doesn't need a guard, right?"

The knight nodded. "Quite right. Such flexibility on your part would no doubt improve our unit as a whole," he remarked. "However, before I can begin to instruct you on the more practical applications – that is, forms and movements and the like that a student of the sword might practice – I must first ensure that you have a foundation which we can build upon."

Robin paled. "If it's extra sessions of your Fanatical Fitness Hour, I think we can stop right here, because there's no way I can survive any more than what you already put me through."

He'd only experienced it a few times, but by the goddess did Frederick's strict training regimen – and strict was the only _polite_ adjective Robin could really use to describe it – do a number on him. Never in his admittedly short memory did the tactician remember ever feeling so close to death's door as he did in the aftermath of the sheer brutality that was the Fanatical Fitness Hour spearheaded by the Shepherds' stern second-in-command. Its name was very much deserved given it was more akin to some brutal selection process than it was an actual training regimen.

The big knight grinned. "No, nothing of the sort, although I _will_ keep that in mind for future reference, Sir Robin," he replied oh-so-innocently, making Robin blanch in reply. "This is something that you'll enjoy much more given your predilection for studying – an admirable trait, I must say, given your position as our tactician."

Frederick's hands came out from behind his back, revealing a fairly thick manual in his grasp.

"First, we shall learn about the schools of swordplay from a more… theoretical point of view," he said. "I believe that this is the perfect learning approach for one such as you, Sir Robin."

He placed the book on the table before Robin with a non-too-gentle thud and slid into the chair across from the tactician.

"Now, let us begin our lessons with the first school of swordplay…" the knight said in a faux cheerful tone as he opened the manual and began flipping through pages.

Robin couldn't help but gulp inaudibly as Frederick dove right into the role of instructor. Regardless of the outcome, he was undoubtedly in for one hell of an education in the art of the sword.

_'__Damn you, Chrom…'_

* * *

Location: Themis

"Oh gods…" Robin whispered as he looked around him at the city of Themis. He'd already guessed that things were bad judging by the marred and damaged gates and outer walls of the city, but this…

Everywhere the tactician looked there were signs of the wanton destruction that he was sure Chrom would say was the handiwork of Plegian troops and marauders. Just from where he stood atop a pile of rubble in the city's main square he could easily spot several buildings sporting black streaks that were no doubt caused by fire, and he was sure there were many more just like them spread all throughout the rest of the city. A smaller number of buildings had actually been completely burned out, leaving nothing more than hollowed out, charred husks that had begun to collapse in on themselves. Upturned merchant stalls, damaged carts, and scattered crates and barrels lay where they had fallen, their contents having spilled out across the cobblestone pathways and left there to rot from days of exposure to the elements.

If he were perfectly honest, it was actually a miracle the city hadn't suffered more damage than it actually did. Some of the other villages that had suffered from Plegian attack weren't even in half as good a shape as the regional capital of Western Ylisse.

He didn't say any of this out loud, though. There were far more important things to be doing than giving voice to inconsequential and easily misinterpreted opinions that would distract the Shepherds and the Ylissean soldiers rushing around him from doing their jobs.

That… and he just couldn't do it even if he wanted to, not when there were so many dead bodies littering the city square and the various pathways that they'd passed through upon their arrival. Many of the dead had been the white and blue-clad Ylissean soldiers stationed in Themis, but the tactician had also spotted at least equal numbers of marauders among the bodies. Clad in varied combinations of black, purple, and rust, he instinctively knew even without any crests on their armor or clothing to aid him that Chrom was at least right on this account – they were Plegian soldiers, through an through.

Robin grimaced as he thought of what he'd seen, trying to fight the bile that had risen earlier and threatened to rise once again. This hadn't been so much a battle as it was an absolute bloodbath. The bodies of the Ylissean soldiers had been in especially bad shape, many of them terribly mangled and maimed to the point that they were almost unrecognizable.

The dark sense of familiarity that the tactician had felt at the sight of the carnage had unsettled him, very nearly pushing him over the edge had he not allowed a moment for himself to gather his composure and take a deep breath and an equally deep swig from his waterskin. It had taken everything Robin had to keep his stomach from rebelling against himself, especially when he made the mistake of closing his eyes and allowed the images of that dark place from his visions to overlap in his mind's eye with the scenes he was seeing before him now.

Noticing Chrom and Frederick heading in his direction, the tactician hopped off the rubble he'd been standing on with more calm composure than he actually felt, bending his knees as he landed to absorb the impact before walking over to meet the prince and knight halfway.

"This is a right mess…" Robin heard Chrom murmur as they met, the other man's cobalt blue eyes staring distantly at the wreckage.

The tactician simply nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak lest he say something he might regret at a time when tensions were already running quite high.

"Damn the Plegians… damn them all to hell!" the prince spat hatefully, his words for some reason tugging at Robin's heart painfully for a reason he couldn't quite place.

"Chrom…" Robin said lowly. "You should calm down…"

The prince suddenly turned and glared at his friend and tactician. "Calm down? _Calm down_?!" he asked heatedly before pointing at something over Robin's shoulder.

"Look… Look at what they've done and tell me how in Naga's name I can be calm!"

Robin narrowed his eyes. He didn't need to turn to know that Chrom was pointing at the dead Ylisseans that were now being lined up for identification and subsequent burial rites. He didn't need to turn to know that Chrom was pointing particularly at the minority of the dead that were innocent Ylissean civilians who were simply trying to lead normal, peaceful lives.

He didn't need to turn to know any of that, because to him it didn't matter who died. He knew just from how he was feeling that somehow he'd already seen something similar in his previous life, whatever he might have been at the time, and he knew that it wasn't something he could ever condone.

"How can I remain calm, Robin?! Tell me!" the prince continued. "Plegia is all but invading my country! My people are suffering and dying!"

Before Robin could reply, another voice – this one much gentler than either of theirs – cut into the conversation.

"It is precisely _because_ Plegia is invading that Robin counsels you to be calm, Brother."

Chrom whipped about, surprise evident on his features. "E-Emm! What are you doing here?" he asked as his elder sister took calm, measured steps in his direction, Phila following along in her wake. The mass of soldiers opened a clear path before the Exalt and the Pegasus Knight Wing Commander and allowing them to approach unimpeded.

Secretly, Robin felt a small sense of relief course through his veins. He had no doubt that had he replied he would have simply escalated the tension and maybe prompted the prince's temper to flare even further.

Emmeryn sighed and looked out sadly over the wanton destruction. "I needed to see everything with my own two eyes…" she said softly. "What sort of ruler would I be, Chrom, if I did not come and understand for myself what my people are going through?"

"It's dangerous here, though," Chrom replied, moving in closer. "We're not sure if the city's even secure; for all we know, Plegia might still have soldiers and assassins lurking!"

Emmeryn shook her head softly. "Then I shall simply have to be at risk like the rest of you," she stated simply.

Robin frowned as he watched the confrontation between the two siblings play out. While Emmeryn's voice was gentle as it always was, it also carried a steely undertone of authority that made him – and Chrom, more importantly – realize that the person before them was not holding herself as their friend and sister, but as the Exalt of Ylisse.

_'_… _As a grieving ruler who can only weep for the suffering of her people…'_

However, the tactician recognized that even that realization wouldn't deter Chrom from simply allowing his older sister to traipse right into the middle of what could become a battlefield at any moment.

"Sister, please… let us handle things out here first," Chrom said as he placed a hand on Emmeryn's shoulder. "You shouldn't be here right now. Let me get someone to escort you back to–"

The Exalt shook her head. "You will do no such thing, Brother," she replied icily. "I will not be going anywhere."

Chrom's grip slackened in shock. "Emm…?" he whispered, completely taken aback. He'd never heard his sister take such a cold tone with him before.

Emmeryn sighed. "You said it yourself, did you not?" she asked rhetorically, her expression calm save for her grey-green eyes that were clearly expressing her disappointment. "You claimed that I am blind to the suffering of my people and that I am out of touch with reality. You cannot expect to say what you did and then keep me coddled and in the dark."

The prince recoiled, as if he'd been physically struck across the face. His expression was nothing short of aghast.

"Emm…!" he said. "That's not what I…"

The Exalt smiled sadly. "Not what you meant?" she asked gently, her tone losing much of its earlier ice. "If that is so… then I would advise that you think of your words more carefully, my brother, lest they come back to haunt you later. Your contradictory words and actions would only shame you before those who you would one day rule over."

Robin winced as he watched Chrom step away from Emm as if he'd just been burned after touching a boiling hot cauldron.

_'__Ouch… that's pretty harsh. Perhaps it might be necessary… but it's harsh nonetheless.'_

He made to step in, but before anyone could so much as get another word in, the sound of a pegasus' flapping wings on the wind alerted the group to the presence of one of Phila's pegasus knights in the skies above.

"Milord! Your Grace!" the knight cried out, her long red hair whipping about with the wind as she brought her pegasus down in a gentle dive towards the quintet.

While soldiers all around the trio moved quickly to make space for the knight and her steed to land, Robin simply stayed where he stood as he marvelled at the pegasus' swift and graceful movements.

_'__Say what you want about Phila's no-nonsense personality, but you can't deny the results of her training methods. This knight is showing us a fine example of _exemplary_ mount control.'_

The pegasus gently touched down, its hooves clattering upon the cobblestone of the city square as it bled off the forward momentum its dive had carried. As soon as the pegasus had come to a halt, the knight dismounted from her winged steed, giving it a caress on the neck before moving forward from behind the beast's frame and allowing Robin to finally get a good look at her.

What he saw certainly got his attention and made him do a double-take at the sight.

The pegasus knight was nothing short of _stunning_. Her long, lustrous crimson locks – and Robin had to emphasize just how _long_, because they reached all the way down to her thighs – cascaded down her back in artfully messy waves, framing soft features that were already beautiful even when twisted with an expression of slight anxiety.

Her slim physique – one that would be the subject of many another woman's envy – beneath her short red riding dress and silver light armor pointed to her having a naturally slender frame that would have only been honed and refined by her training as a pegasus knight. However, it was the way the knight carried herself with confidence and poise that emphasized just how _physically blessed_ she actually was, especially when her confident gait so easily drew attention to the long, shapely legs that were mostly hidden by her thigh-high riding boots.

_'__Wow. Just… _wow_. Skills and looks in equal measure.'_

Robin turned his eyes away and swallowed to rid his watering mouth of its liquid contents lest he be caught _drooling_ at the sight of such an exquisite member of the opposite sex. He just hoped no one took notice of his behaviour or realized what was going through his mind.

He turned his attention back to the pegasus knight, watching as she rushed to kneel before Emmeryn and Chrom, her eyes lingering just a moment too long on the latter before she averted her eyes and lowered her gaze to the ground.

_'__Oh my… looks like Chrom has _another_ not-so-secret admirer…'_

"Cordelia, report," Phila said as she stepped forward from where she stood at Emmeryn's shoulder.

Robin's eyes almost immediately bugged out of their sockets as his mind registered the knight's name.

_'__CORDELIA?!'_ he roared mentally. _'_She's_ that friend Sumia mentioned?!'_

The tactician had been about to go off on an internal rant, but then he remembered the look Cordelia had sent Chrom's way.

_'__Oh Naga, they're both angling for Chrom,'_ he thought with growing horror. _'This… okay, _this_ could end quite badly.'_

However, he quickly pushed thoughts of the potential disaster and headache that the Chrom-Sumia-Cordelia love triangle might present him with out of his mind. There were more important things to be thinking about right now, such as whatever information Cordelia might have.

Cordelia raised her eyes to look at her commander. "Yes, ma'am! My squadron and I have spotted groups of what seem to be enemy troops towards the west!"

Phila narrowed her eyes. "The west, you say?" she asked. "Were you able to get a clear look at them?"

The redheaded knight nodded. "We didn't get too close in the odd chance they had archers or mages among their number, but we were able to make out some details using spyglasses."

She took a breath, glancing at some of the corpses as she did so, and then dropped the bomb.

"We made out similar armor and garments to… what the dead marauders were clad in. We have reason to believe they're Plegian soldiers scouting out Themis for more possible incursions."

Chrom, predictably, almost immediately turned to Frederick. "Get the Shepherds together and prepare for combat! Pull some of the mounted knights from the reconstruction and aid efforts and get them ready to move out! We'll use them to circle around and pincer the enemy in!"

"It will be done, milord," Frederick said. "However, might I advise–?"

The knight was ignored as Chrom quickly turned again, this time to the steel-haired wing commander of Ylisse's pegasus knights.

"Wing Commander, could you spare a squadron of your knights?" he asked. "Any air support we can get will no doubt be useful in chasing them down!"

Phila nodded gravely. "Of course, I shall see right to it."

Robin sighed irritably, wondering how Chrom could be so reckless all the time, before deciding it was best he get in the way of things before Chrom inevitably led them into a death trap.

"Belay that order, Frederick, Wing Commander," he said evenly, his voice somehow still rising over the din even if it was no louder than normal. "We aren't pursuing."

All movement and sound stopped as the tactician's words registered with all those within hearing.

Chrom was the first one to react, the prince turning and giving Robin a look of betrayal that clearly demonstrated that he almost felt as if the tactician had just publicly taken a vow of loyalty to Plegia.

"What?! Why?!" he asked hotly. "Robin, they're–"

"Right there? Almost as if they're taunting you to come out?" the tactician replied coolly, stopping Chrom in his tracks. "That's _exactly_ why we're not going to pursue, Chrom. The Plegians – if it really was them, and I'm quite sure you're at least right on _this_ account in saying it was them – attacked Themis several days ago. They've already accomplished what they set out to do, so why come back, then?"

Robin shook his head. "The only reason they'd return and show themselves now is because they know we're here and want to draw us out," he continued, before glancing at Emmeryn. "I can't tell you for sure why they'd want to do that. However, if I had to take a guess, I'd say the Plegians have another group hiding nearby that will likely try to go after the Exalt once we take the bait and spread our forces thin."

Phila looked troubled by the thought. "The Exalt? Are you sure, Tactician Robin?" she asked, worry clearly evident in her voice even if her face hid behind a mask of impassivity.

Robin shrugged. "Of course I'm not," he replied quickly and easily. "I'm just stating what I would do if I was in their place. Whoever is leading the Plegians has no qualms with ransacking Themis or razing smaller Ylissean villages to the ground. Trying to kidnap the Exalt would certainly not be above them; they already kidnapped Lady Maribelle to use as a bargaining chip, and I have no doubt in my mind they'd do the same to Exalt Emmeryn if we give them the opportunity."

Chrom narrowed his eyes. "So you're saying we should do nothing?" he asked, barely keeping his anger and frustration under control.

"I'm not saying we shouldn't do anything, Chrom, otherwise we won't be able to get Lady Maribelle back," Robin shot back. "What I _am_ saying is that we shouldn't play their game. On the battlefield, dancing to the enemy's tune is the same as getting yourself killed."

Chrom growled, but before the prince could even muster up a reply of some sort, another voice cut into the conversation.

"Hah! Well said, young man," the new voice said, prompting Robin – and indeed everyone else around him involved in the conversation – to turn in direction the words had come from.

Walking up to them was a tall, fair-skinned man who Robin guessed was somewhere in his early forties due to the look of experience in his sharp, light blue eyes, though he could definitely pass for a man ten years younger if the tactician simply based his assessment on the other man's youthful features and trim build. His blonde, medium-length hair was combed back in a very aristocratic manner, lending him a noble bearing in spite of the white beginning to creep in at the temples.

He was dressed in a crisp, well-cut military uniform composed of tunic, trousers, and boots, though Robin was sure that in combat situations the ensemble was also supposed to include breastplate, pauldrons, gauntlets, and greaves. His general appearance, combined with his regal bearing and poise, made him cut quite the intimidating figure.

… Not that Robin would allow himself to show any sign of weakness to anyone, whether friend or foe.

He tilted his head in question. "I'm sorry, but you are…?" he asked evenly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chrom cringe and try to signal a message at him, but he chose to ignore the prince for now.

The new arrival let out a bark of laughter that looked very much at odds with the scenery around him.

"Well, young man, I'll give you a clue," the other man replied, chuckling good-naturedly. "You're standing in my city."

Robin's brow furrowed in thought. "Huh, your city…?" he murmured, before his eyes widened at the implications of the man's words. "Wait, _your city_?! But that means–!"

_'__Don't tell me _that_ was what Chrom was trying to tell me…'_

"Correct. I am Marcus, the Duke of Themis," the man affirmed, a small smile twisting his lips as he witnessed Robin's growing horror. "And you must be Prince Chrom's new tactician. I've heard quite a bit about you, lad."

Robin nodded dumbly. "Y-yes, that's right. My name… is Robin, um… sir," he replied, giving a respectful half-bow in spite of his surprise.

Duke Marcus let out another bark of laughter, prompting a rather surprised Robin to risk a peek from beneath his bangs.

"Come now, none of that, lad. Raise your head," he admonished as he placed a hand on the tactician's shoulder and eased him back into an upright position. "Our respective positions matter not. Right now, we're simply fellow soldiers tasked with protecting our fair halidom."

"R-right… t-thank you, sir."

Duke Themis chuckled, patting the tactician's shoulder before slipping past him and moving to kneel before the Exalt.

"Your Grace, I wish this meeting could have happened under better circumstances," he said lowly, his head bowed in respect. "However, I thank you for coming so quickly. Your aid and presence are most welcomed and appreciated."

Emmeryn shook her head. "Nonsense, Duke Themis. It is I who must apologize for having allowed this to happen," she replied softly. "Please, rise. I am certain that we have much to discuss about what has happened here, and what course of action we must take going forward."

"Yes. I expected that you and Prince Chrom would want to be updated on the situation," Marcus said as he rose to his feet. "If you would follow me, we can speak more at the war room we have prepared in my villa."

_'__War room, huh…'_ Robin thought to himself, glancing once again at his surroundings and the soldiers moving about working. _'I guess we really _are_ at that point, aren't we?'_

Chrom stepped forward. "I'll be bringing Robin with me, if that's fine," he said. "Frederick will handle things out here in my stead."

"Of course," Marcus agreed. "Your tactician's insight will most certainly be valuable in our discussions."

The Exalt inclined her head in agreement. "Yes, I agree… however, before we go…" she murmured, directing a meaningful gaze at Robin.

"Tactician Robin."

The white-haired man straightened. "Y-Your Grace."

Emmeryn smiled, almost knowingly if the twinkle in her grey-green eyes was any indication.

"Your earlier insights as to possible threats against us will not be taken lightly," she said kindly. "Please, I would hear your recommended course of action given the present situation."

Robin blinked, and as Emmeryn's words sank in he became acutely aware that everyone's eyes were on him. Emmeryn, Chrom, Frederick, Wing Commander Phila, Duke Marcus… hell, even that gorgeous flame-haired pegasus knight Cordelia was watching him with rapt attention.

_'__Damn it all…'_ he cursed mentally, feeling sweat beginning to bead on his forehead and temples as his companions awaited his response.

For all that his position as a tactician demanded that people pay attention to him when he was talking tactics, Robin actually disliked being put into situations that required him to speak before people belonging to higher stations than his own.

His conversation with Emmeryn back in Ylisstol had made that fact painfully obvious, and he was still sure that his poorly-concealed nervousness and discomfort had _not_ gone unnoticed even if the Exalt had not brought it up in any way, shape, or form since then.

_'__I wonder if that's why she seems to have taken some sort of interest in me… she could have asked just about anyone else for their input!'_

"Robin? Are you alright?" a voice asked, snapping the tactician out of his thoughts and bringing him back to the present.

The snow-haired tactician blinked his hazel eyes, belatedly realizing that Chrom had stepped in closer to him at some point during his internal discussion. Concern was clearly evident on the other man's expression, something which Robin tried to ignore for the time being, although there was also a sense of curiosity in his searching blue eyes.

Robin shook his head once, sharply, trying to dispel all unnecessary thoughts – including Chrom's apparent concern – from his mind. The last thing he needed right now was mental distractions that might hinder him from performing his duties as a tactician.

_'__Come on, Robin, get it together… there will be time to think about your own personal issues later.'_

When his thoughts were a bit more organized, Robin finally allowed himself to focus on Chrom, his hazel eyes locking gazes with the other man's deep blue.

"Are you alright?" the prince repeated again.

"Oh, Chrom… sorry, I just spaced out in thought for a bit," Robin replied vaguely, not quite wanting to give anything away to his captain. As touching as the prince's concern was, Robin really wanted to avoid having anyone think he was compromised due to personal issues.

Chrom's frown grew just that little bit deeper upon hearing the tactician's answer, but he seemed to get the hint and, however reluctantly, decided to back off for now.

Taking an inaudible breath, Robin composed himself and turned his attention back to Emmeryn. Robin resisted the urge to groan upon seeing the Exalt's twinkling eyes and knowing quirk of the lips.

She knew. By the goddess, she _knew_.

The realization nearly shattered the tenuous hold Robin held on his composure, and it was only by sheer willpower – or some sort of divine intervention – that the tactician's mind in him managed to stave off the instinct to descend into panic.

Coughing to hide his discomfort, he decided to simply push on forward and try to give them a different reason for their attention.

"I apologize. I was lost in thought thinking over possibilities…" he said smoothly, although the way the corners of Emmeryn's lips rose just a tiny bit more showed she wasn't convinced in the slightest.

_'__Damn it.'_

Regardless, she for whatever reason was again refusing to bring it up. "It is understandable," she commented kindly. "One in your position must consider many things when lives hang in the balance with every decision made, after all."

Robin stopped himself from grimacing at her choice of words. Oh, she knew, all right. She knew _exactly_ what his issues were.

_'__She can read me like a book, and she's sending me subtle hints to let me know… damn, damn, damn.'_

He cleared his throat to hide the resigned sigh that wanted to escape his lips. Best to roll with the punches for now and see what happens if and when she _does_ decide to open up the topic with him.

"Thank you for your understanding, Your Grace," he said, and he doubted that he'd ever been more sincere aside from perhaps his conversation with Lucina back in Ferox. "Now… how we are going to react will be based not on the enemy we know, but on the enemy we do _not_."

Upon noting the questioning frowns, Robin nodded at the flame-haired pegasus knight. "Cordelia, yes? You said your squadron sighted enemies to the west, towards the border with Plegia." At the nod of confirmation from the obviously confused knight, he cupped his chin in thought. "Right, so we know there are enemies in _that_ direction. What we don't know is if there aren't enemies to the north or the south, waiting for us to take the bait."

Nodding to himself, Robin lowered his hand and regarded those around him. "So, here's what I suggest we do. First, we should create a rotating roster for Phila's pegasus knight squadrons and ensure that we have at least two or three squads in the air at all times. Their job will be to scout the area around Themis and be on the lookout for any approaching enemies. We'll also post sentries at every conceivable entry point into the city so we have an extra set of eyes and ears to work with."

"Meanwhile," he continued. "The supply convoy will set up shop here in the city square while the rest of the troops continue providing aid to Themis' residents. If our scouts or sentries spot any enemy movements, they sound the alarm immediately and ensure that information gets to where it needs to go – that's the Exalt and Prince Chrom. When the main body of our troops are armed and suited up, they'll form up ranks and move to take defensive positions. We only have about a hundred and fifty troops – maybe double that number if you include Her Grace's honor guard and Wing Commander Phila's pegasus knights – so we're almost certainly going to be outnumbered if Plegia _does_ come attacking… but I'll have some strategies readied that should allow us to at least hold off an invasion until reinforcements from Ylisstol can arrive to assist us."

Only when Robin finally stopped talking did he realize that everyone around him was staring in various expressions of amazement.

"Uh… is there something wrong?" he asked worriedly, wondering if he'd accidentally said something that rubbed people the wrong way.

The silence was broken by Duke Themis letting out a bark of laughter.

"Hah! Wrong? There's nothing wrong, lad!" the Duke commented. "Your reasoning is sound, and speaks to experience far beyond what someone of your years should normally be able to attain."

Phila almost smiled. "In spite of any misgivings I have concerning Tactician Robin's origins, I must agree with His Excellency Duke Themis," the veteran knight said, adding her own thoughts to the Duke's own. "He has given us a fine plan, and he also advocates for caution and patience, which is something we need to exercise when there are still many unknowns."

Emmeryn nodded sagely. "Your opinions are both welcomed and appreciated, Phila, Duke Marcus," she acknowledged, before her attention turned to her younger brother. "And what of you, Chrom? Have you anything you wish to add?"

Chrom frowned for a few moments as his eyes searched Robin's own, the tactician standing his ground and resolutely meeting the prince's blue-eyed gaze with his own.

Eventually, he ran a hand through his hair. "Well, I don't particularly like that we aren't doing anything," he admitted. "Waiting around just doesn't sit well with me."

The Exalt let a smile touch her lips. "Your preference for immediate action is something we have all come to expect of you, brother," she replied. "However, I sense you still have something to add."

Chrom hesitated for a moment, but let out a resigned sigh.

"You know me too well, sister… you're right when you say I'd rather do something right away," he said. "However, I've said it before, and I'll continue to say it: I trust Robin. I have to believe that he knows how best for us to proceed."

Emmeryn's blinked once, slowly. "I see. Thank you, Chrom."

Seemingly satisfied, she turned her attention back to the snow-haired tactician, who stiffened ever so slightly as he once again came under her gentle scrutiny.

Robin swallowed thickly as the Exalt's eyes searched his face, locking onto his hazel eyes so intently it almost felt like she were looking through him.

"Tactician Robin… I would ask but one question," she ventured softly, speaking so suddenly Robin nearly jumped in surprise. "As a tactician, what is your priority? What motivation drives you when you create your strategies?"

For his part, Robin bowed slightly in respect. "Your safety – and indeed everyone else's, as much as possible – is my highest priority, Your Grace," he answered honestly, managing to keep his anxiety and surprise from his face and body language. "There is no sense in achieving any 'victory' if at the end of the day I come home with more people dead than alive. The soldiers with us aren't just resources or pawns to use in my strategies. Above all, the lives of those at my command are my responsibility, and one I do not take lightly."

The Exalt gave Robin a kind, grateful smile in response. "I see. Then I shall trust in your plan," she said. "Phila, if you would be so kind?"

The veteran falcon knight nodded. "Of course, Your Grace. I will see to it immediately."

As Phila turned to carry out Robin's orders, Emmeryn turned her attention back to their young white-haired tactician.

"Raise your head, my friend," she said, leaning in and doing as Duke Themis had done earlier. "Let me look you in the eye as I give you my thanks for your support."

Robin did as the Exalt had bid him and allowed her to bring him back to a fully standing position where his own eyes could meet her gentle, grey-green gaze.

"Please continue to do as you have, Tactician Robin," she said. "I am gladdened to be reassured by your words and deeds that my belief in you has been validated."

Robin couldn't help but smile, even in the grave situation they found themselves in.

"Thank you, Your Grace," he replied. "I hope to continue to be worthy of your trust and regard."

Emmeryn returned the tactician's smile, before turning back to Duke Themis.

"I suppose we must be going, yes? There is much we need to discuss, after all."

* * *

Location: Duke Themis' Villa

Robin sighed as he sank into a seat within the common room of an empty apartment wing that Duke Themis had been kind enough to provide to the Shepherds during their brief stay in Themis.

If he were in a perfectly normal state of mind he'd have been profusely grateful, but given what had transpired during the earlier discussions with Emmeryn and the Duke he couldn't even take a few minutes to appreciate this minor luxury.

All he could do was put his face in his hands and groan as he remembered Frederick bursting into the war room without any preamble or prior warning, carrying a letter addressed to the Exalt in his hands which the knight said came from a man who had claimed to be a Plegian messenger.

At first, Chrom and Duke Marcus had been rather dubious, but as soon as Robin had seen the wax seal on the parchment and identified it as the royal seal of Plegia, Emmeryn had wasted no time in unfurling the letter and reading its contents.

"Gangrel wants to hold face-to-face peace negotiations, huh…" he murmured as he recalled Chrom and Duke Marcus' shared outrage at the Plegian king's audacity. "Right on the border… no more proxies and diplomats, and no military units present, either…"

He shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and twisted amusement.

_'__This reeks of a trap, through and through,'_ he thought, rubbing his face tiredly to ease some of his mental exhaustion. _'Surely King Gangrel doesn't think Emmeryn _that_ naïve, does he?'_

Given Chrom's words and behaviour during the war council back in Ylisstol, though…

Robin snorted. _'Okay, maybe it's not that far-fetched given Emmeryn's own brother thinks the same of her.'_

That said, Emmeryn fully intending to meet with King Gangrel on his terms _did_ make everyone's lives a bit harder, his own included.

_'_… _My own, especially.'_

The problem was that as much as he wanted to talk Emmeryn out of it, though, he just _knew_ she wouldn't budge on this one, and the frustration from that realization was what was _really_ winding him up.

He buried his face in his hands again and moaned. "By the _goddess_, why is their entire family so thrice-damned stubborn…?!" he griped.

"You don't seem to be a very happy camper," Chrom's voice suddenly said. "Penny for your thoughts?"

_'__Speak of the devil,_' Robin thought rather dryly. Stifling a groan, the tactician raised his head to look up blearily at the prince standing next to one of the empty chairs at his table.

Chrom frowned. "Wow, you don't look too good. Are you alright?"

_'__We're about to go to war, and my job hasn't gotten any easier since we got here. How do you think I'll be feeling after all that?'_ Robin wanted to ask him.

The tactician simply settled for a half-hearted glare that hopefully would be enough answer for Chrom's question.

Given how the prince raised his hands in a placating manner, the message seemed to get across well enough.

"Right, right…" Chrom murmured. "But would you mind if I… well, picked your mind for a bit?"

Robin shrugged as he pushed off the table to lean back in his chair and regard his captain an appraising look.

"Suit yourself, you're the boss around here," he replied nonchalantly. "What do you need?"

Chrom took the seat across from Robin and leaned forward, resting his head against his interlocked fingers.

He didn't speak for a long while, and that was clue enough to Robin that whatever it was the prince wanted to ask his tactician about was something important.

_'__Probably about Emmeryn's meeting with King Gangrel, if I'm honest… he's been on edge ever since that.'_

After a few moments of silence, Chrom looked up from where he'd been staring at a spot on the table and locked eyes with Robin.

"What do you think is going to happen tomorrow?"

_'__Bingo.'_

Robin crossed his arms thoughtfully. "You're talking about that meeting King Gangrel proposed, right?"

Chrom nodded, making Robin sigh in response.

"It's a trap," he said simply after a brief moment of silence. "Given everything that's happened thus far, I don't doubt he'd resort to some sort of underhanded tactic."

"Ah, so we think the same, then," Chrom murmured, his thumbs moving to rub at his temples and forehead. "I've given orders for the Shepherds to prepare to march as the Exalt's honor guard. I'm – we're – not going to allow Emmeryn to go meet King Gangrel by herself."

Robin smirked. "Resorting to the use of loopholes, are we?" he commented, said smirk transforming into a grin as Chrom gave him a wry smile. "No military units, but we're not exactly a proper unit of the Ylissean Royal Army, so…"

"I trust Gangrel even less than I do our own councilors and strategists, and you know my distaste for politics and self-centered schemers."

Robin raised an eyebrow, making Chrom suddenly backpedal as he realized just what his words implied.

"P-present company excluded, of course."

The snow-haired tactician chuckled. "Easy, Chrom, I know what you meant. I take no offense. It _is_ a tasteless job, at times. There's no shame in me admitting that."

Chrom chuckled nervously. "R-right… so, can I count on you to prepare our deployment plans, as always?"

Robin nodded. "Of course, that's why you hired me, isn't it?" he replied. "Don't worry, I'll have something ready by the time we move out tomorrow."

Chrom grinned brightly. "Excellent," he said. "Thank you, Robin. You are ever the reassuring presence in our camp."

Robin simply shook his head. "Nonsense, Chrom. We all have our part to play in this. It's not all on me."

"Hah… you really are too modest, my friend," the prince commented as he stood up. "But I guess that's why we all trust you so."

"It would be very bad if some of the Shepherds didn't," Robin pointed out.

This time it was Chrom's turn to shake his head.

"Ah, you misunderstand," he said, his grin dimming ever so slightly as it was replaced instead with a warm smile. "I was referring to myself and Emmeryn… she expressed her confidence in you after the meeting earlier, you know. Even Duke Themis couldn't help but be impressed by your composure, and he's quite the tough audience."

That gave Robin pause. _'Emmeryn said…?'_

"You shouldn't act so surprised," Chrom continued. "You've proven yourself time and again, my friend. I think you've more than earned the trust we give you."

He chuckled, not quite noticing the shocked expression on the tactician's features.

"Don't stay up too late tonight, Robin," he said. "We'll need you at your best tomorrow."

Robin's eyes watched Chrom as he left, watched as he casually threw a wave over his shoulder before stepping through the arch that separated the common room from the main corridor. Robin's eyes remained locked onto the common room's entryway long after Chrom had already disappeared through it, and through it all Robin himself couldn't stop an ever-deepening frown from marring his features.

"Lady Emmeryn still wishes to place her trust in someone like me…?" he murmured. "Someone of unknown origins… someone who clearly has some kind of performance and trust-related anxiety…"

Robin sighed and ran a hand through his hair as the frown on his lips gave way to a rueful smile.

"Damn, I really can't let her down after hearing that, can I?" he said to no one in particular as he rose from his own chair to head back to the solo suite that Chrom – Naga bless him – had been gracious enough to set aside for his use.

As Robin made the short trek down the corridor to his quarters, his mind was already racing as he imagined the various strategies and situations that could play out… and he quickly came to the conclusion that they were in a real bind thanks to Gangrel's demand that Emmeryn come to the meeting without any troops accompanying her.

That left Robin with very few options open to him, and led to the grim realization that the situation had already forced his hand.

_'__Looks like I'll need to play my ace a bit earlier than I would have thought or liked…'_

Robin grimaced at the thought of potentially putting young Ricken into a potentially dangerous position, but he really had no other choice at the moment. He also knew the bold young mage would do whatever was asked of him – so desperate was he to be of service to Chrom and to Exalt Emmeryn that Robin just _knew_ without any shadow of doubt that the boy would not hesitate to jump into danger.

_'__Damn it, I just hope this doesn't end badly…'_

The Exalt's safety was the primary goal, above all else, and he needed to take every desperately needed advantage he could get… even if it meant ordering Shepherds into harm's way to ensure Emmeryn's continued safety.

Robin knew he'd have to give orders tomorrow. A battle was almost inevitable at this point.

Robin knew the Shepherds would all willingly follow his orders and protect Emmeryn without any hesitation; such was the depth of their loyalty and dedication to their Exalt and to their Captain that they'd emulate the trust he held in their tactician.

He just hoped that the orders he would give tomorrow were good enough that he could bring everyone home in one piece.

* * *

Location: Plegia-Ylisse Border

The morning could not have come any quicker, and if someone were to ask Robin about it he'd say it had come _far_ too quickly for his liking given just how limited his preparations were. Even now, he found himself going over his plans again and again to try and find any other holes that he'd try to plug before something went horribly, horribly wrong.

The Shepherds were currently marching for the Plegia-Ylisse border, serving as the Exalt's honor guard in place of the actual honor guard that accompanied the Exalt in any of her visits to foreign lands. Chrom, as usual, led the way out in front, with Duke Marcus walking alongside the prince and Robin right behind the pair of them. Unlike yesterday, the Duke was now clad in full silver platemail armor and carried a lance slung over his shoulder, clearly indicating to everyone that he came ready for a fight.

_'__That's a relief, though. I have a feeling we'll need every bit of help we can get.'_

Frederick had moved back from his usual position near Chrom and Lissa to take the spot alongside Emmeryn, who sat astride her own horse in the middle of their formation. That left Lon'qu to stand near Lissa as her newly-assigned bodyguard, and it had surprised Robin to learn that Frederick had accepted the myrmidon's assignment without much fuss, especially when considering it had been upon the tactician's own recommendation that Chrom had signed off on the idea.

Sumia was scouting for Robin as she always was, but unlike most normal situations she had Wing Commander Phila for company up in the skies. Robin wasn't too surprised by her presence given her adamant refusal to stay behind, although he _was_ surprised – pleasantly so – and grateful for her willingness to assist and be an extra set of eyes up above.

Sully and Stahl took to the rear of the group as per Robin's instructions, keeping a short distance back to allow them to easily break away and secure the Exalt an escape route back to Themis in the unlikely – but still possible – situation that they'd need to make a quick retreat. The rest of the Shepherds were interspersed between Chrom at the front and the two mounted knights at the rear, eyes watching every direction in case the Plegians were lying in wait.

The meeting place Gangrel had specified was located within the mountainous region that marked the border between the Halidom of Ylisse and the Theocracy of Plegia, and as they drew ever closer to the mountain range that separated the two countries Robin watched with an odd fascination as the lush greenery that he'd come to associate with the Ylissean landscape began to disappear. The grass and bushes lining the mountain roads noticeably grew dry and arid, and even the earth itself seemed to have become dusty and parched.

For some reason, though, the feeling of the dry air and the sight of the barren landscape wasn't an unfamiliar or unwelcome one to Robin. In fact, everything around the tactician right now just seemed to evoke an odd sense of familiarity, one that almost seemed to be tugging at something – probably a forgotten memory – deep within his subconscious.

However, as much as Robin wanted to latch onto the feeling and follow it back to a potential hint about his past, he also couldn't help but dread what was waiting to be discovered, especially given what th might be potentially implying.

_'__Gods… I hope this doesn't mean what I _think_ it might mean.'_

So focused was he on his thoughts that he belatedly realized Chrom had stopped walking and barely managed to avoid crashing into the prince's back.

"O-oh, sorry, Chrom!" he stammered out as he looked around. "Why'd we stop?"

Chrom chuckled. "Robin, we're already here," he replied with a smirk. "You've had your head in the clouds for the past fifteen minutes."

Robin flushed lightly in embarrassment as he heard the snickers from some of the other Shepherds, and he knew then that _everyone_ had noticed his distraction and had decided to have a bit of fun at his expense. He'd been so buried within his own thoughts that he'd somehow managed to not notice that both Sumia and Phila had already landed and were approaching the group at a trot.

_'__They probably even landed because the others wanted to see if I'd notice…'_ Robin thought sourly. _'I have been so had just now.'_

The tactician couldn't do much else but sigh in resignation as he watched Frederick assisted Emmeryn in dismounting from her horse, the Exalt's light traveling boots kicking up small clouds of dust as they touched down upon the road's surface.

_'__At least morale's high…'_

Taking a look around to examine the area, Robin found that they'd arrived at a multi-tiered cliff area where the mountain road began to take a steeper climb up towards the mountain range's peaks. A small, seemingly deserted fort was sprawled across the three "landings" of the area, appearing almost as if it had been built _into_ the mountain. To any normal traveller using the road the fort might have seemed innocent enough, but Robin wasn't nearly convinced.

"Those forts there…" Robin murmured, making Chrom and Duke Marcus turn to him. Noticing their attention, he pointed towards the man-made structures up ahead. "Those buildings up ahead; they used to be a Plegian border post. I'd heard it was abandoned, but…"

"But…?" Chrom prodded carefully.

Robin frowned. "It's far too quiet, and that's making me more than a little uneasy…" he murmured anxiously. "The Plegians should have arrived first, and yet we can't see or hear anyone or anything. We should definitely tread carefully."

Duke Marcus' brows furrowed in thought. "Hmm… the Plegians abandoned this border fort, you say?" he asked, expression curious. "I must admit that this is the first I've heard of this. Where did you hear it, lad?"

"I, as well, am curious as to where you came across this information, Tactician Robin," Emmeryn said as she walked up to the group, Phila ever present at her side. "We haven't scouted in this area in quite some time, since Plegia may view us sending pegasus knights here as a sign of aggression."

Behind the two women, Robin could see Frederick casting a suspicious glare in his direction, the knight doubtlessly having overheard his earlier remarks about the forts.

"Well, Robin?" Chrom said, his voice betraying the slight impatience he was feeling.

Robin's frown deepened. "I…" he murmured, averting his eyes and clutching at his forehead.

_'__Where _did_ I learn all of this…? Could it be that I'm…?'_

By whatever stroke of fortune, however, he was saved by answering by someone shouting at their group from above.

"What's this, then? The Exalt herself, in all of her radiance?!"

They all turned their gazes up in the direction that the voice had come from.

Standing at the top of a small rise overlooking their group was a fairly tall man with pale, almost grey-colored, skin, wild red hair, and a neatly trimmed red beard. He was of slight figure, though his dark trousers and a purple-lined black and white tunic hugged his frame just tightly enough to show off a well-defined build one might expect of a trained swordsman like Lon'qu. Bright golden armor protected the man's forearms and waist, the former of which ended in grey fingerless gloves while the latter was partially covered by a grey leather belt and tasset. Similarly designed grey leather pauldrons sat upon the man's shoulders, covered by a magnificent – if slightly ridiculous – high-collared yellow cape accentuated by a black-furred ruff. His appearance was topped off by a gold necklace hanging around his neck and the jewelled gold crown that sat upon his head.

_'__King Gangrel…?'_

"Gangrel…" Chrom growled, his words confirming Robin's suspicions as to the man's identity.

At the very least, the Plegian King had remained true to his word with regards to meeting Emmeryn.

_'__Whether he actually came without any troops is a different matter altogether…'_

A cruel smirk twisted King Gangrel's features. "I fear I must shield my eyes!" he continued, before erupting into mad, screaming laughter.

In stark contrast, Emmeryn was the picture of grace and serenity as she stepped forward from within the Shepherds' protective formation.

"King Gangrel," she greeted, performing a pitch-perfect bow that Robin recognized was a customary greeting between high-level dignitaries. "I'm here, as agreed upon, so that I may learn the truth of the unfortunate incidents and wanton attacks that have been plaguing Ylisse in the past weeks."

Robin could see Duke Themis bristle at the mention of 'unfortunate incidents', but he simply chalked it down to Emmeryn being diplomatic rather than accusatory.

_'__Easy, Duke Marcus… easy… let's not start things so hastily.'_

The woman that had been standing a few steps back from Gangrel, almost unnoticed until this point, chose to step forward and stand at her king's side.

"The truth?" she purred coyly, her voice sounding to Robin almost like honeyed poison. "I can give you the truth you're looking for…"

Robin turned his attention to the woman next to the Plegian king, and almost instantly felt his blood turn to ice. Only through the most tenuous of holds on his self-control did he manage to keep any reactions from crossing his features, because his mind, heart, and soul was screaming at him that he _knew_ this woman.

The woman was the very definition of "seductress", with a curvaceous body of tanned, earthen skin not dissimilar to the earthen Feroxi skin tones and shocking long white hair. She was clad in an outfit that was almost entirely black and only a small step away from immodesty. It started with the tight, form-fitting mini-dress that left almost nothing about her to the imagination; its neckline plunged all the way down past her navel, exposing much of her midriff and the entirety of her cleavage and inner breasts, while its short length left exposed what parts of her long, shapely legs were not covered by her black and gold patterned stockings and heeled riding boots. Ebony light riding armor adorned her hips, shoulder, neck, and black headdress, while a pair of golden belts crisscrossed across her waist.

However, Robin's eyes were drawn to the most unusual part of her appearance: the purple, tattoo-like markings on parts of her exposed torso and face that just screamed _wrong_ at him. It was almost a familiar feeling to…

His eyes widened. _'It almost feels like the mark on my hand…'_

Emmeryn, however, seemed to be unflappable as she took the woman's tone and appearance all in stride. If she was unsettled in any way, she gave no sign of it.

"Perhaps milady might first share her name?" she prompted, her serene tone and expression still in place.

The sultry woman chuckled deeply before performing an imitation of Emmeryn's bow that simply dripped of mockery and insolence.

"You may call me Aversa, Your Eminence."

Another pulse of familiarity erupted from within Robin at the mentioning of the woman's name, prompting a furrowing of his brows.

_'__Aversa… maybe I might have heard of her in the past…?'_

He watched as Aversa's eyes wandered over their group, viewing each of the Shepherds with a cold, uncaring gaze… but her expression changed the moment her rust-colored eyes locked with his own. Her expression grew surprised for the briefest of moments before it was replaced by the grin of a well-fed predator that had just found its next meal.

_'__Oh, I knew you, alright. Your reactions are proof enough of that,'_ Robin thought. Unfortunately, any chances of confronting her and finding out about his past were close to nil considering they stood on opposite sides of a war just waiting to happen.

"Very well, Aversa," Emmeryn said, still polite and composed. "I trust that Lady Maribelle is unharmed?"

Gangrel made a confused expression. "Who?"

Aversa leaned in closer and whispered something into the King's ear, prompting a look of realization from the man.

"Ah, you mean that little blonde brat," he said dismissively, gazing over his shoulder and giving a lazy wave forward.

Robin frowned. "So I was right… he _does_ have troops in hiding…" he murmured.

Realizing they'd be in for a fight, the tactician looked over his shoulder and discreetly sent a signal to Lon'qu and Virion – the Shepherds standing directly behind him – with an almost unnoticeable nod of his head. The myrmidon and archer both nodded to indicate having received his silent orders before turning to pass on the signal to those standing behind them.

Satisfied that the Shepherds were now preparing for possible combat, Robin turned his attention back to the front just in time to see a Plegian soldier appear over the crest of the rise, dragging along a restrained Maribelle with him.

"Unhand me, you gutter-born troglodytes!" he could hear her shout as she was brought forward, clearly not lacking in spirit or fire in spite of her harsh captivity.

Robin heard someone behind him – Virion likely – mutter "Do you think they'd even understand the meaning of such an insult?"

He resisted the urge to fire a quip back. Focus was absolutely paramount right now given their situation.

Duke Themis growled beneath his breath as his daughter came into full view, and when Robin took a closer look he could understand why the Duke would react in such a manner.

At first glance, Maribelle seemed unharmed, but upon closer inspection Robin quickly realized that was hardly the case. Dirt, grime, and dried blood caked the blonde girl's skin and hair, and Robin could clearly see swelling bruises and wounds where tears in her clothing had left her body exposed to the harsh elements. Her clothes were still mostly in one piece, though, which at least let Robin know that the worst hadn't happened to her during her captivity.

_'__Damn, she doesn't look very good…'_ he thought to himself, noticing that Maribelle was clearly favoring her left leg as she was dragged forward and that she swayed unsteadily once the Plegian held her before him for the Ylisseans to see. Even if they managed to get her back, she'd definitely be a liability should battle be joined.

"Maribelle!" Lissa cried out as she lunged forward to run towards her best friend, pure concern overriding any thought for the tense situation facing them now.

However, before she could even make it a few steps forward, Robin hooked an arm around her stomach and stopped her in her tracks.

"Lissa, no!" he whispered harshly. "Don't be hasty! I know you're worried about Maribelle, but we can't risk you getting captured as well!"

The princess turned to face him, teary eyes clearly showing her fear and anxiety.

"But, Robin…!"

For his part, Robin simply shook his head. "I promise you, we _will_ bring her home safely. Just be patient for now and trust me."

Lissa stopped struggling against Robin's hold and nodded her assent after a short moment. Seeing she was placated and wasn't going to bolt, Robin released her.

Having heard the cry, Maribelle looked down at the Shepherds, and her eyes widened in astonishment as they locked onto her beloved friend.

"Lissa?" she asked, her voice drifting down to them from where she stood. "Lissa, Darling, is that you? What in the name of Ylisse are you doing here?!"

Before anyone could say any more, Aversa drew a single sharp fingernail along Maribelle's throat and jawline, silencing the girl.

Duke Themis made to move, but Chrom placed a hand on the man's armored chest, keeping him from doing anything rash.

"This girl crossed onto Plegian soil without our consent or proper documentation," Aversa said, her words still dripping from her lips like honeyed poison. "And what's more…" Here she smiled a smile that looked decidedly venomous and lacking in any form of concern or sincerity. "She even assaulted – and wounded – the brave Plegian soldiers who only sought to return her home."

"Lies!" Maribelle screamed. "You speak nothing but lies, you wretched old hag!" If looks could kill, Aversa would have been struck dead, such was the ferocity of Maribelle's eyes. "Did they not teach you the meaning of the word 'truth' in crone school?!"

Aversa's smile only grew. "You see? No manners whatsoever," she crowed triumphantly. "Such a nasty little bird simply _had_ to be caged and… disciplined."

Gangrel nodded in agreement. "Such a violent temper speaks to her guilt," he added. "This will call for a weighty punishment in response." His lips twisted into a cruel smirk. "And if the little tramp were to confess to being a Ylissean spy after we're done questioning her? My goodness! It would take an act of _considerable_ good faith to repair our relations."

The king cackled in glee, and Robin knew _exactly_ why he earned the moniker of 'Mad King of Plegia'.

He narrowed his eyes. _'Repairing relations is the _last_ thing on this madman's mind. He's going to stop for nothing to get his war!'_

"I have done nothing wrong!" Maribelle suddenly shouted, making Aversa noticeably frown at her continued defiance. "It is they who should confess! They are the ones who invaded Ylisse! They razed an entire village! When I attempted to intervene, they attacked my party, took me captive, and dragged me across the border. Let the plundered shops and charred homes of that village serve as my proof!"

Duke Themis turned to Emmeryn. "Your Grace, the soldiers that had been sent with Maribelle when she went to investigate were found in the very village they were trying to help. The survivors' testimonies can corroborate her claims that they were attacked!"

Gangrel scoffed. "Hah! That would only prove that Ylisse has an ever growing bandit problem – something that I hear oft as of late from my scouts…" he commented dismissively, before giving them all a wicked grin once more. "But, fear not, Your Graceliness, tonight I shall at the very least express my sympathies as I weep salty tears into my pillow for every last one of your dead villagers and plundered towns and villages… but only _after_ I am assured of reparations for the damages we have incurred."

Duke Themis' grip on his spear was so tight Robin could have sworn the metal was creaking from the strain.

"You raze my countrymen's villages, you raze my own city, you kidnap my daughter, and you _still_ have the gall to demand reparation?!" he said, clear rage building in his shaking voice. "Your Grace, we can't simply let this slide! Surely you aren't going to play his game!"

Up on the rise, Maribelle continued to struggle against her captor before Aversa struck her across the face, knocking the wind from the girl's sails and nearly moving Duke Themis to rash action were it not for Chrom's firm grip on the man's pauldron.

However, Robin could only watch with growing admiration for Maribelle as the girl raised her head defiantly, fire still burning in her burgundy eyes as she directed her gaze at the Exalt despite the angry red welt forming across her cheek.

"Your Grace, please!" Maribelle cried out, Robin's heart cracking as the hints of desperation began to creep into her strong, fiery voice. "You have to believe me!"

Duke Themis turned to Emmeryn. "Your Grace! We have to–!"

Emmeryn held up a hand, forestalling the Duke's comment. The steely look in her eyes and the tilt of her chin were commanding and authoritative, and it was then that Robin finally fully saw the family resemblance between the Exalt and the Prince.

"Peace, Marcus," she said simply. "I believe her."

Drawing herself to her full height, the Exalt looked King Gangrel in the eye, all pretences of her earlier serenity having dissipated from her expression. Instead, in its place was a calm, tranquil fury that looked decidedly out of place on the face of one as gentle as Emmeryn.

"Gangrel, release her," she said, her regal voice strong and firm. "Surely we can sort out these affairs and come to an agreement without having to resort to the use of any hostages."

The King's expression morphed into an expression of feigned offense, although Robin couldn't help but be wary of the strange, almost predatory gleam in his eye.

"Without so much as an apology?" he asked, affecting a tone of hurt that positively dripped with sarcasm. "Why should I even bother parleying with you, Exalt? We stand on Plegian soil! I'm well within my rights to have her blonde little head on a pike right this instant and make it home in time for supper afterwards!"

This time, it was Chrom who reacted. He'd managed to hold his tongue up till now because of Emmeryn's wishes, but the sight of Lissa's dear friend and a fellow Shepherd having their life threatened by Gangrel was enough to erode what little control he had over his temper.

"You black-hearted devil!" he roared, drawing Falchion from his sheath and pointing it straight at the Mad King.

Beside him, Duke Themis' face was contorted in anger. "You tell that whoreson soldier of yours to let my daughter go now!"

Seeing Chrom and the Duke losing their cool prompted a grin from Gangrel and a frown from Robin. This was _exactly_ what the Plegian king wanted to see as he slowly began to run the Ylisseans out of options.

"Control your dogs, my dear Exalt," he said lowly, a dangerous edge to his tone. "They might just get someone hurt if they keep barking like that."

Robin narrowed his eyes as he watched the situation begin to deteriorate.

_'__Damn it, this isn't good… all these tempers are running too hot.'_

Emmeryn turned and shot a scathing glare at the angered pair. The meaning was clear: "Back down. Allow me to handle this."

While his expression clearly showed his distaste for the silent order, Duke Themis nonetheless bowed in acquiescence and stepped back immediately.

Chrom, on the other hand, was far more obstinate in his stance. He met Emmeryn's gaze in what could only be described as open defiance, his eyes smoldering with burning rage that was just begging to be released through the sacred blade held in his right hand.

Emmeryn's eyes narrowed. "Chrom," she said sternly, gazing at her brother with eyes that were like icy steel.

When her brother refused to budge, Emmeryn's lips pulled down in a displeased frown.

"Chrom," she said, a more forceful edge creeping into her tone. "Stand down."

Exalt and prince continued to glare at each other for a few moments before, with a growl of frustration, the latter finally stepped back and lowered his blade.

Gangrel cackled at the scene playing out before him, clearly amused at how Chrom could so easily be played.

"Good, that's much better," he said patronizingly. "Now then, Your Graceliness… perhaps we might organize a trade, yes?"

When Emmeryn remained silent, Gangrel continued. "I return your precious Mari Contrary here in one piece, and in return you hand over the Fire Emblem!"

The Exalt gasped, and Robin saw that her calm façade had finally shattered, replaced with a look of surprise and – dare Robin say it – horror.

However, as surprising as it was to see the normally unflappable Emmeryn lose her composure, what had _really_ caught his attention were those two significant words Gangrel had spoken.

_'__The Fire… Emblem…?'_

Robin frowned as that sensation of familiarity made itself known each time he repeated the words in his mind, although this time it was accompanied by a sense of seeming urgency that refused to be shaken off. At the very least, he knew that this 'Fire Emblem' was something important that he in his past life – which he wasn't particularly eager to find out more about, given all the hints so far – might have known about or sought for reasons that were, as of yet, unknown.

"The Fire Emblem…?" Robin heard Emmeryn gasp, the Exalt unknowingly echoing the tactician's own thoughts. "But… why? Why would you desire Ylisse's national treasure?"

_'__That's quite the question to be asking, isn't it?'_

"Because I know the legend!" a wide-eyed Gangrel roared in response, the man almost looking as if he were about to start frothing at the mouth. "The Fire Emblem is the key to having all of one's wishes realized! I have desired it for years, Your Graceliness! _YEARS_!"

Gangrel suddenly took on an eerie sense of calm. "And yet every year my birthday comes and goes without receiving anything from Ylisse…"

He sighed in an overly dramatic manner before chuckling darkly.

_'__Yep, he's definitely jumped off the deep end,'_ Robin thought, feeling decidedly unnerved by the Plegian king's erratic behavior.

Emmeryn's brows furrowed. "The Emblem's power is only meant for a single purpose, King Gangrel: to save the people in their hour of most desperate need," she replied, voice beginning to tighten from the stress of the situation. "Would you claim a wish more noble than that?"

"Why, Exalt, my wish is the same as the wish of every last one of my countrymen!" he replied, voice beginning to tremble with madness. "I wish for a grisly end for every last Ylissean! What could be a more noble wish than that?!"

Gangrel threw his head back in screaming laughter, and Robin could see Maribelle's eyes widen in growing fear at such a blatant display of insanity.

_'__This isn't good. He's so unstable that one wrong move can send everything straight to hell.'_

His eyes suddenly widened in surprise as he spied something that, by all rights, _shouldn't be happening_.

_'__What in blazes are you doing up there?! Are you mad?!'_ Robin thought as, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Ricken – or, rather, his floppy blue mage's hat – on a higher cliff just above where Gangrel and Aversa stood. He watched as the boy slowly crept his way forward, edging ever closer to a position directly above the two Plegians.

While Robin wanted to yell at the boy for his recklessness, he quickly realized that Ricken's initiative might just be the opportunity he'd need when – not if – the combat inevitably began.

_'__By the goddess, you're getting a talking to if I somehow make it out alive,'_ he thought, keeping the boy in sight only out of the corner of his eye while he kept most of his attention on the proceedings in front of him.

Emmeryn could only stare wide-eyed at her Plegian counterpart. "W-what…?" she breathed, looking as if she were unable to comprehend what she'd just heard from Gangrel's own lips.

Gangrel's expression twisted in rage. "Surely you have not forgotten what the last Exalt – your father – did to my country and my people!" he growled out angrily. "He named us heathens, lest we forget! His so-called crusade across Plegia butchered countless of my subjects and my kin and left many without fathers, mothers, husbands, wives, and siblings! And why?! Because we had a different faith! Because our faith stood in direct opposition to your own!"

_'__Ah… so that's what happened… the Plegian Crusades Chrom mentioned were started by their father…'_

Robin frowned as a troubling thought occurred to him. _'… So how could a warmonger like him have raised someone like… like Exalt Emmeryn…?'_

Emmeryn allowed herself a moment. "… I have never denied Ylisse's past wrongdoings," she replied. "But! I have sworn to never repeat the mistakes of the past! Gangrel, surely you can see that the Ylisse of old departed with my father's passing! The Ylisse of the present is a realm of peace!"

"Ylisse is nothing more than a haven of hypocrisy and falsehoods!" Gangrel screamed as he drew his lightning bolt-shaped sword – a Levin Sword, Robin recognized – and waved it angrily at the Exalt.

He gestured sharply with his hand, prompting the Plegian soldier holding Maribelle to roughly force the girl to her knees before the Plegian king.

"Now, give me the Emblem!" he demanded, lowering his blade to the blonde girl's neck and pressing its edge against her throat. "Or your precious blonde whore of a subject really _will_ have her head mounted on a pike!"

_'__This is getting completely out of hand… but, not yet… not yet…'_

Maribelle looked directly at Emmeryn, and in spite of the fearful tears and trembling lower lip Robin could still see that fiery defiance in her burgundy eyes.

"No, Your Grace!" she shouted desperately. "I-I would sooner die than be a bargaining chip for this filthy reprobate!"

Emmeryn's' expression tightened. "No, Maribelle… I can't…"

Gangrel groaned in utter frustration, clearly having lost whatever semblance of patience he still had.

"Taaaaaalk talk-talk-talk-talk," he remarked disdainfully.

Robin narrowed his eyes. _'It looks like he's about had enough of this. Is it…?'_

"It's time to speak louder than words!" he shouted as he raised his sword up into the air. "The negotiations are over, Your Luminosity! I shall have the Emblem if I have to pry it from your shiny dead hands!"

_'__So it is… they were waiting for us this whole time!' _Robin thought as he watched Plegian soldiers suddenly begin to come streaming out from their hiding places in the underbrush and within the mountain fort, sword and axe wielders and even the occasional mage rushing forward in response to their king's orders.

"They've even got wyvern riders…" he murmured, watching as a squadron of the aforementioned flying soldiers rose into the air astride their reptilian mounts. "It'll be tough to fight or run while the enemy has air superiority… They have us right where they want us…!"

A trio of axe-wielding fighters that had been closer to the group charged in, making a beeline directly for the Exalt. However, before the lead of the trio could so much as even get within ten steps of her, Chrom had stepped into the ruffian's path and cut him down. The remaining two soldiers wisely chose to back off and retreat for the time being as Chrom hovered protectively before his sister, Falchion held before him in a two-handed grip.

"Stay back!" he shouted, Falchion positively gleaming in the midday sun as if it were reflecting the palpable fury of its wielder. "Come near her and you'll all suffer the same fate!"

Gangrel couldn't have been happier with the outcome. "Now that's a declaration of war if I've ever heard one…" he commented darkly, a twisted smile on his lips. "A big, messy war that will bleed you Ylisseans dry!"

"A declaration of war?!" Duke Themis asked as he hefted his spear. "It is _you_ who first committed an act of war, Mad King!"

Gangrel dismissed the Duke's retort with a wave of his free hand.

"Bah! Like my people will care who actually started it!" he shot back as he turned to leave. "All they'll care about is that Plegia is at war with the hated Ylisse!"

As Gangrel took his leave, laughing maniacally all the while, Aversa smirked cruelly.

"But, since you're so intent on pinning the blame for this on someone…" she offered silkily. "Maybe you'd not mind if we pin the blame on your beloved daughter, now, would you?"

Duke Themis looked incensed. "You monsters!" he shouted, almost rushing forward alone were Robin not quicker on the draw.

"Duke Themis! Calm down and fall in with the rest of us, sire," Robin commanded. When the Duke turned to glare at him, he shook his head. "I know what you're going to say, but I can promise you that we'll get her back alive and in one piece. Just trust me, please. I need everyone's cooperation right now."

The Duke stood stock still for a few brief moments, Robin simply meeting his gaze resolutely. Of course, on the inside, he was quite the panicked mess as he wondered if he was about to be ordered off the battlefield and sent to the gallows for his insolence upon their return to Themis or Ylisstol.

Much to his surprise, however, the Duke simply sighed.

"… Very well," he said. "I was being selfish, and I let my own desires get the better of me. Please, direct me as you see fit."

Chrom shook his head as he laid a hand on the man's pauldron. "Don't worry. It happens to the best of us."

The prince turned to Robin and gave him a nod, indicating for the tactician to proceed.

It was a cue Robin was only all-too-happy to take up.

"Sully! Stahl!" he called out, the two mounted knights perking up at the sound of their names being called. "Scout out the path back to Themis! Make sure there aren't any ambushes waiting for us! If there are, one of you comes back while the other finds us an alternate path!"

The redhead almost looked disappointed. "Sure thing, boss man, but you better let me in on a brawl next time!"

"I'll be sure to do that!" Robin replied, exchanging grins with the fiery knight before she took off, Stahl giving the tactician a wave before following in Sully's tracks.

Turning, his eyes quickly sought out the other two knights he really needed right now. "Frederick! Commander Phila!"

"Sir Tactician," the Shepherds' lieutenant said as he came forward to stand at attention before Robin.

Phila fell in next to him a step later. "How may I be of assistance?"

Robin frowned. This decision… was definitely going to make the rest of his strategy difficult, but it was a necessary precaution he had to take.

"You'll be escorting the Exalt back to Themis," he said. "Frederick will guard her on the ground, while Wing Commander Phila will scout from the air. Work together, and ensure the Exalt gets to Themis safely. The rest of us will buy some time for you to get a head start."

Frederick's brows came together as he frowned. However, it was Phila who voiced the question Robin just _knew_ Frederick wanted to ask.

"What of the prince and princess?" she asked.

Robin sighed heavily. "… I'll take responsibility for their safety," he replied. "I'll bring them home safely, I promise, but I need to secure the Exalt's retreat above all else."

Frederick nodded after a moment. "… I understand. Come, Phila."

As the two veteran knights moved off to help Emmeryn into the saddle of her own horse, Robin turned to the rest of the Shepherds to start giving orders.

"The rest of you, form up!" the tactician began to yell. "Kellam! Front and center with Chrom, Duke Themis, Vaike, and myself! We're holding the line here!"

The heavily-armored knight seemed to materialize out of nowhere in the space between the prince and the Duke, the two men almost jumping in surprise at the sudden appearance among their ranks of the Shepherds' quietest member.

_'__I really should try to make looking for Kellam a training exercise…'_ he thought, before shaking his head free of the idea.

There was work to be done.

"Virion and Miriel, focus on their wyverns when they're within range, targets of opportunity otherwise!" he continued to shout out instructions, the Shepherds hurriedly moving to comply with his orders. "We need to clear the skies so Sumia can fly unimpeded and strike from above! Speaking of, Sumia! Stay close to the ground until the skies have cleared! Engage any enemies that make it past our line or try to attack Virion and Miriel; you're their last line of defense! Lon'qu, you're in charge of protecting Lissa! Don't let those wyvern riders near her!"

Lissa looked at him worriedly. "But… what about Maribelle…?"

"We'll save her, don't worry!" Robin replied over his shoulder as he ran to take his place in the Shepherds' defensive line.

Chrom turned to look at him. "Your orders, Robin?"

Robin held a hand up. "We can't move recklessly," he replied. "We just have to be patient and weather the enemy's attack first."

Chrom looked ready to debate the issue, but the man held his tongue and simply chose to ready his sword.

_'__A good choice, to be honest,_' Robin thought, eyeing the Plegian troops as they resumed their advance towards the Shepherds' defensive line.

The tactician pulled out his tome and cracked it open, runes burning to life around him as mana coursed through his arm and up to his fingertips. He raised his free hand, crackling with electricity, and let loose with a simple thunder spell that lanced straight up into the sky.

_'__Maribelle's in your hands, Ricken…'_

Robin could only hope the inexperienced boy understood the signal, because he had more important things to worry about right now.

The tactician whipped his hand out again. "Elthunder!" he called out, firing off a trio of bolts into the encroaching tide of soldiers.

He watched with a grim sense of satisfaction as his spell tore through an axe-wielding soldier, dropping the man instantly.

One kill, one second into the battle.

* * *

As the battle was joined down below in the mountain pass, Aversa turned to Maribelle and leaned in close, her hand moving up to delicately trace a finger along the blonde girl's jawline.

"You poor, stupid little girl…" she purred, smiling in delight as Maribelle shuddered beneath her ministrations. "Are you really worth fighting a war over? Years from now, you'll be remembered only as she who caused the downfall of House Ylisse. Isn't that delightful?"

Maribelle shook her head violently. "No… No, that's… that's not…" she whispered, horror and grief lacing her tone of voice as tears began to pool at the corners of her eyes. "Oh, Lissa… Please, no…"

_'__Prince Chrom… Lissa… oh, I'm so sorry…!'_

Aversa smirked, clearly pleased by the effect her words were having. "Don't worry, though, little girl. At the very least, you won't live long enough to see the downfall of your beloved country," she said, her tone falsely sweet as she drew a wicked looking dagger from her belt. "I suppose that's one mercy we'll be kind enough to give you as thanks for allowing us the war we've been wanting for so long…"

Maribelle closed her eyes, unable to stop the tears that were beginning to stream down her cheeks. All she could do now was wait for the sharp sting of cold metal piercing her chest.

It never came.

A particularly strong shove sent Maribelle sprawling to the ground with a cry of pain. The blonde girl did nothing to even try to get up; if this was the Plegians prolonging her agony, she'd not give them even the slightest bit of entertainment in her last moments.

However, after a moment or two more of waiting, it finally occurred to Maribelle that the pressure on her restrained arms was no longer present. In fact, she began to recognize the feeling in the air as that of leftover mana from the use of magic, and she belatedly began to realize that what had shoved her to the ground was actually…

_'__Wind magic…!'_

Her eyes shot open, allowing her to see what had to be one of _the_ most unlikely sights she'd ever expected.

Sliding down the cliff and then running the short distance to her… was a _very_ familiar young mage.

"RICKEN?!"

"Sorry I caught you with that!" the rust-haired boy said breathlessly as he skidded to his knees next to her prone form. "Just hold still, I'll have you free in a bit."

Maribelle was honestly too surprised to really have done any moving, and so was quite cooperative as the mage lit a small flame on his finger tip to burn away the ropes binding her wrists together.

"Alright, you're free!" he said as he placed one of her arms over his shoulder, his own hand sliding around to gently hold onto her waist. "Let's get out of here!"

The blonde girl finally looked at the boy – no, the young man – helping her up.

"Ricken, what in the world were you thinking coming here?!"

_'__In fact, what in the world was Prince Chrom thinking when he allowed this…?!'_

The mage shook his head, the point of his hat flopping about with the movement.

"We can talk about this later," he said as they began to run – or hobble, in Maribelle's case. "We should hurry!"

The pair didn't make it very far before a silky voice cut in, stopping them in their tracks.

"My, my, isn't this sweet?" Aversa said as she easily rose to her feet, the fingers of her right hand sparking with magic. "Your boyfriend came to rescue you, did he? How precious of him to attempt to do so."

She smirked at the two teens. "This isn't the place for you, though, little boy," she continued, her sweet voiced laced with venom. "Perhaps you should just go back to the playground before you get hurt…"

Ricken grit his teeth as he swung around. "Don't talk down to me, you witch!" he cried out as his arm lashed out, runes forming around him.

Maribelle's eyes widened as Aversa's smirk turned predatory, and she quickly turned to face her friend and fellow Shepherd.

"Ricken, don't!"

She was too late, as the boy had already released his spell, sending a gust of verdant green blades of wind at the Plegian seductress.

Aversa chuckled darkly as she flicked her wrist, runes instantly flaring to life around her before forming a magic circle right in front of her outstretched arm.

"Arcfire."

The words were spoken simply, but the dread and all-too-real fear Maribelle felt was all too real as a jet of angry flames shot out from Aversa's magic circle, smashing directly through Ricken's wind spell unimpeded before continuing on its way towards the two teens.

Maribelle's perception of time slowed down as the searing hot flames approached. She had no time to even react to Ricken crying her name out as he turned and embraced her, using his body as a shield that he hoped would somehow protect her from the oncoming spell.

She shut her eyes as the flames approached, unconsciously squeezing Ricken as if the gesture would help give both of them some semblance of comfort in their final moments.

The stream of fire was upon them… and then on either side of them, the wave of heat passing the two teens by on the left and the right.

_'__W-what?' _"What?!"

Maribelle's eyes shot open at Aversa's shocked gasp, the Plegian woman having unknowingly echoed her own thoughts.

Ricken, too, seemed to realize that things hadn't gone as they should have. He slowly released Maribelle and turned, allowing the girl to see just what exactly had her former captor so surprised.

What the blonde noblewoman saw gave her pause, and idly she wondered just what other surprises today might have in store for her.

Standing before the two Shepherds with his back to them was a regal blue-haired knight clad in a long, white coat-like tunic lined with gold trimming. Maribelle would have thought the coat fitting garments for a member of the nobility or even a priest were it not for the various signs of repair that were clear indicators that it had seen both worse and better days. Beautifully crafted silver-white armor delicately lined with intricate gold trim that matched the knight's tunic – and Maribelle could swear his armor looked almost as ceremonial as his tunic were it not for the similar signs of scars and repairs marring the silver plates – protected his torso, shoulders, forearms, and lower legs. Completing the knight's ensemble was a semi-transparent turquoise scarf wrapped around his shoulders – the Seal of House Ylisse clearly embroidered into the longer tail that fell past the small of his back – and a pair of dark leather belts looping around his waist and over his left shoulder, the latter of which held a long silver sheath decorated with gold and inscribed with prayer runes.

By and far his most striking feature, however, was his long cerulean hair. His hair was – inappropriately by noble standards – messily arranged, almost as if their owner had not a care in the world for his appearance. His long hair that Maribelle imagined would have normally cascaded down his back was tied back into a fairly neat ponytail that dropped even further down the length of his body than his scarf, almost approaching his knees.

As she gazed at the mysterious knight, Maribelle couldn't help but wonder who this unfamiliar newcomer was considering his stance, poise, and attire all pointed towards him being a member of the nobility.

"Who are you…?" she ventured carefully, not wanting to risk the ire of someone so unknown. Their situation was precarious enough as is.

The blue-haired knight turned halfway to meet her gaze, revealing sharp, crystalline blue eyes – the right of which was partially obscured by long locks of his hair – a jewelled earring hanging on his left ear, and the weapon held in his left hand: a beautiful, ornate longsword just under two meters in length.

Its blade was made of pure silver that shone brightly as it reflected the light of the midday sun, almost appearing as if it had absorbed the daylight's golden coloration. Its gold and white handle and hand-guard were decorated with deep azure lining, making it almost appear more a work of art than a weapon of war.

Maribelle noted the engraved runes running along half the blade's length, recognizing them as the ancient scripts that were mainly used in magic spells and other arcane arts, and wondered if it wasn't an enchanted weapon given the fact that it had apparently split apart an oncoming stream of fire.

"… An ally," he finally replied, his voice surprisingly soft and gentle given the cold expression etched on his features.

As he turned his attention back to Aversa, a single thought etched itself in Maribelle's mind.

Never had she seen a pair of eyes so sad and so broken as the pair she'd seen just now.

* * *

The knight narrowed his eyes as the Plegian mage – _Aversa_, he reminded himself – regained her bearings, her shocked expression giving way to a displeased scowl at having been robbed of her kills.

An image flashed through his mind – that of an equally sultry Plegian sorceress dressed in even more scandalous attire, with medium-length dark blue-violet hair, otherworldly golden eyes, and a demonic smirk.

His lips curved downwards into a minute frown as he tried to quell the dark emotions welling up within him at the mere thought of the demon of his nightmares.

_'_… _This person's not _her_… Don't let your emotions play tricks upon your mind…'_

He resisted the urge to shake his head as he refocused himself back on the present. Now wasn't the time to be getting caught up in unnecessary thoughts.

"Who are you?" the Plegian mage growled darkly.

The knight allowed his earlier frown to twist into an equally muted smile.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he replied vaguely, watching from the corner of his eye as Plegian troops began to charge down from the pathway behind Aversa that led towards the mountain fort.

"Lady Aversa!" "Lady General!"

Aversa's scowl morphed into an absolutely venomous smirk as the cries of her newly arrived reinforcements reached her and the troops entered her field of vision.

"Well, isn't this the interesting little development," she crowed as the Plegian troops began to encircle the three Ylisseans. "If you beg for mercy, I may still be inclined to give it…"

He shrugged lightly in response to her statement, knowing his noncommittal response would further infuriate the Plegian woman, before he turned ever so slightly to gaze over his left shoulder at the two Shepherds standing behind him.

"You should go. Now," he said quietly, his words surprising the two teens. "I will give you the time you need."

Maribelle frowned. "And what of you?" she asked. "Do you truly expect us to leave you here?"

The knight shook his head, sending his ponytail swaying with the motion.

"I should not be your concern," he replied. "I have dealt with situations far worse than this."

Maribelle looked ready to debate the issue, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her short. The knight watched as she turned to the hand's owner, finding Ricken looking at her with a mixture of pity and understanding that told the entire story: the young mage knew of the heart that hid behind her scathing outward personality. He knew she refused to seemingly leave a man to die.

Ricken knew they could not offer him much as they were now, and he knew Maribelle was trying so very hard not to accept that reality.

_'__Ah… so perhaps is this where their connection starts…?'_ the knight thought to himself. _'Hmm…'_

"… Maribelle… come on," Ricken finally said, glancing at the knight meaningfully. "He's right. We should go before it's too late."

Maribelle hesitated, still clearly torn. Her eyes shot back to the knight who stood protectively before them.

"I…"

The knight simply gave the blonde noblewoman a grave nod, the girl's burgundy eyes widening in surprise before she returned the gesture.

"… Thank you," she said, bowing at the waist as an expression of her gratitude. "We owe you our lives."

The knight almost smiled at the girl's sincerity.

"Save your thanks for when our paths cross again," he replied. "I'm certain this will not be our last meeting."

He only watched Maribelle and Ricken for a brief moment, long enough for the girl to nod at him – this time more firmly – before the pair turned and fled the scene.

With their escape secured, the knight turned his full attention back to Aversa, the Plegian mage having watched the entire exchange with interest.

"How brave of you," Aversa commented as her troops began to inch forward and surround their seeming quarry. "But your sacrifice is meaningless. My soldiers have these Ylisseans hopelessly outnumbered. The brats will be dead long before they can reach their comrades."

She smirked, licking her lips as she did so. ""You've nowhere to run, and the same can be said of them. So… knowing that, would you still offer up your life for theirs?"

"Of course not," the knight replied tersely, his clipped response surprising Aversa with its calm, matter-of-fact nature.

He fell back into a combat stance, twisting his body and allowing his right side to lead as his left foot slid back by half a pace. He raised his longsword, holding it up and back in a high one-handed grip, blade angled up just slightly in a high guard that could easily transition into a variety of movements depending on which of the Plegian soldiers surrounding him moved first.

His eyes were hard and focused as he raised his voice in challenge.

"I offer _yours_!"

* * *

Having managed to temporarily disengage from direct combat, Robin allowed himself a moment to take a few steps back and fully examine the battle as it ebbed and flowed around him.

Their defensive line was still holding – _'For now,'_ he thought as his Elthunder caught an approaching myrmidon right in the chest before the Plegian could even threaten Chrom's flank – and that in itself was already a good thing given the numbers disadvantage they were facing.

Just about the only other good thing right now was the fact that Virion and Miriel had proved very capable in their anti-air duties, their arrows and magic striking down enough wyvern riders to allow Sumia to resume her aerial duties. The Shepherds' resident flier was now engaged with the last of the wyvern riders, who for some reason Robin seemed to recognize as the commander of the Plegian units, in an aerial duel.

Not having Sumia's aerial support was a bit of a blow, but keeping the enemy commander from assaulting the rest of the Shepherds in exchange was a trade Robin would take any day.

_'__Thank Naga we have Duke Marcus here to shore up our numbers, though…'_ he thought, turning his attention to the Duke, who was fighting off two swordsmen at once. Another lay dead at his feet, the puncture wound on the corpse's chest and the splash of blood on the Duke's spear letting Robin know exactly what had transpired

The tactician watched with fascination as Duke Themis outmaneuvered his opponents with his footwork and quick, economical movements. A threatening jab with his spear forced one swordsman back, while the following sweep caught the second swordsman in the ribs with the steel shaft before the Plegian could strike at his back. The sweep was continued into a full circle, allowing the Duke to bring his weapon back into place and deflect a strike from the first swordsman.

_'__He's using the advantages offered by his weapon's greater reach and his experience to curb the enemy's numbers advantage.'_

Robin had been so entranced with observing the nobleman's fighting that he almost didn't realize his senses were screaming at him.

Heeding their warning, Robin quickly ducked into a crouch, his eyes barely registering an axe passing through where his neck would have been before he quickly spurred himself into motion once again. The tactician spun on his right foot and twisted his body around his assailant, placing his crackling hand left hand against the man's shoulder and discharging a Thunder spell directly into his body.

The man dropped like a sack of potatoes, Robin watching him twitch on the ground for a few moments before growing still.

_'__Okay, head back in the game,'_ he admonished himself as he returned his tome to its pouch within his coat and drew his sword from its sheath.

He'd been about to dive back into the fray, but that had been the moment when he spied the developing situation up on the rise with Aversa, Ricken, and Maribelle. His eyebrow rose as he eyed the newcomer with interest, taking note of the similarities in both appearance and bearing with Lucina.

_'__I wonder… is he aligned with Lucina? Related to her, even…?'_ the tactician asked himself. _'That hair color seems a dead giveaway, if I'll be perfectly honest…'_

He watched as Maribelle and Ricken made a break for it, and he resisted the urge to sigh in relief as he realized everyone just might be able to make it out alive and well.

A few short moments later, however, his eyes widened in alarm as more fighting erupted on the rise – this time between Aversa's troops and the two Shepherds' mysterious new benefactor.

_'__Oh. Shit. He needs help up there.'_

Robin quickly began moving forward, opening his mouth to begin shouting new orders.

The words died before they even had the chance to leave his throat as a Plegian axe fighter was sent flying off the edge of the ridge before landing in a crumpled heap on the ground just a few meters in front of Robin.

Robin watched, slack-jawed, as the mysterious blue-haired knight _somehow_ engaged a dozen Plegians all at the same time.

The knight lashed out with his longsword, using the strength of his entire body and his weapon's superior weight to swat aside a myrmidon as if he and his smaller Plegian-made weapon were nothing more than an annoying insect.

_'__A weapon that size, yet only using a single hand…? Ridiculous.'_

Flicking his wrist to bring his blade around, the knight continued the motion into a solid parry before snapping the blade up to break the deadlock. A follow-up jab with his sword's pommel that caught the second swordsman square in the temple, the blow stunning the Plegian soldier long enough for the knight to pull back a few paces and swing his sword with impossible speed, cutting through air and the stunned man from left hip to right shoulder. The momentum from the knight's backswing was again carried, this time into a wide overhead arc that caught three separate weapons and redirected their trajectories before they could even strike at him while his back was turned away from his other adversaries.

_That_ gave the tactician pause. _'Okay…. Maybe he _doesn't_ actually need help, after all…'_

"Sir Robin! Sir Robin!"

The tactician turned at the sound of Ricken's cries, noticing the two Shepherds running – hobbling, in Maribelle's case – towards him, and by extension the main battle, as quickly as they could. She nearly tripped over her own feet, but Ricken managed to catch her before she hit the dirt before slinging an arm beneath her legs and lifting her into a bridal carry.

"Ricken! This way!" he called out as the mage continued running even while carrying Maribelle the rest of the way, the adrenaline flowing through his veins fuelling the young boy to push far beyond what his physical limits would normally have allowed.

"Ricken?!" Robin heard Chrom yell in surprise.

The tactician turned in the direction of Chrom's voice in time to see the prince push against his opponent's sword, breaking their deadlock before striking down the swordsman he'd been squaring off against with a powerful two-handed blow. Without an enemy to occupy his attention, the prince turned to glare heatedly at the tactician.

"Robin! What the blazes is he doing _here_?!"

Said named tactician raised his hand, crackling with electricity, and fired off an Elthunder that arced around a surprised-looking Chrom before striking down a Plegian axe fighter that had been angling to get a hit on the Prince of Ylisse while he had his back turned.

"Later!" Robin shot back as he noticed several Plegian soldiers turning their attention towards the two defenceless Ylisseans fleeing in their direction. "We have better things to worry about right now!"

The tactician cracked his tome open on a different page and surged forward, already charging mana.

"Form up! All frontline units, open up a path for Ricken and Maribelle! Keep the enemy troops off of them!" he yelled as he created as many basic Fire spells as he could control before scattering them all around Ricken and Maribelle. "Virion and Miriel, provide covering fire!"

Chrom, Duke Themis, and Vaike were already in motion as Robin's fireballs blanketed the area around the two Shepherds with small explosions that blasted apart the earth and sent dirt and debris flying into the air. The trio of melee fighters pounced on the distracted Plegians, managing to tie up four of the Plegians. Two more were felled by Virion and Miriel's projectile attacks, arrow and fireball striking true upon their targets.

Robin eyed the last remaining Plegian still charging Ricken and Maribelle, but before he could even begin to prepare another spell, the man dropped dead right before his very eyes. The tactician stared for a moment, before shaking his head and taking a closer look at the scene.

_'__Damn it,'_ he thought as he finally noticed the presence of the Shepherds' largest member._ 'I really should try to remember Kellam's still around…'_

He shook his head to banish the thoughts from his mind as Ricken and Maribelle finally made it past the front lines to where the tactician was standing.

"Good job, Ricken," Robin said, taking off the young mage's hat to ruffle his hair before gently placing the hat back on his head. "You did well – better than I ever could have hoped for, in fact."

The rust-haired boy grinned widely, clearly pleased by the praise.

Robin gave Ricken a smile, before turning to the blonde noblewoman in the mage's arms.

"I'm glad you're safe, Maribelle," he said, the injured girl almost gazing at him with shock. "I know you're not especially fond of me, but it's a relief all the same to see you back safely."

Maribelle looked at him with a marked expression of surprise, unable to really formulate words for the time being.

Robin turned back to the battle going on behind Ricken just in time to see Sumia's spear strike true and pierce the Plegian commander's chestplate, the man falling from his steed to the ground below just as Virion's arrows sliced through the wyvern's wing membranes and sent the beast following after its dead master.

He nodded in satisfaction as the remaining enemy troops began to retreat. "Good… looks like things are winding down here…" he murmured, before turning his attention back to the pair.

"Take Maribelle to Lissa," he instructed, the boy bobbing his head in acknowledgement. "Have her patch up what she can while we have time and then take a break. We'll need to make a quick retreat once everyone's ready to move out, so you'd best save your strength while you have the chance."

The mage nodded again, and Robin gave a light wave in response as they parted ways. He made his way up towards Chrom, the prince simply gazing up at the rise where Gangrel and Aversa had been earlier.

"Looks like we've won… for now," he offered as he stepped up to the other man.

Chrom nodded distantly. "Yeah…"

Robin frowned. This wasn't normal behavior.

"By the way, can you handle things by yourself for a bit?" he asked. "Just start on our preparations to withdraw."

Chrom's blue eyes continued to stare off into the distance. "Mm?" he mumbled.

_'__Man, what's gotten into _you_, Chrom?'_

"I just need to see if Maribelle and Ricken's mysterious helper is still around," Robin said. "He reminds me just a _little_ bit too much of Marth for this to wholly be a coincidence."

Chrom nodded again. "Right…" he murmured. "We can handle ourselves. Go do what you need to do."

Robin furrowed his eyebrows. "Chrom…" he said. "Are you sure you're alright?"

The prince gave a nod, though the tactician couldn't be quite sure he'd even heard his question.

_'__Well, I'm sure he'll open it up when he needs to,'_ he thought with a helpless shrug.

"I'll be off, then. I won't be too long," Robin said as he turned and began walking up the mountain path.

He hadn't even taken his fifth step when Chrom suddenly called out after him.

"Robin?" Chrom said, making Robin turn to regard the prince once more.

"… Be careful."

The tactician nodded before he took off, heading up the mountain path towards where he'd last seen the blue-haired knight.

* * *

The knight drew his longsword back with a sharp flourish, the motion flicking off the last vestiges of blood that still stained the blade's surface.

All around the landing lay the bloodied bodies of his Plegian attackers, their discarded weapons littering the ground where they had fallen or been taken from their owners' hands. The few that still remained standing had wisely chosen to back away, their fear and disbelief palpable even from where the knight stood.

"H-he's not human!" an axe fighter exclaimed.

Aversa growled. "Stand your ground, all of you! Don't panic!" she demanded. "I will personally end the first man to turn his back on the enemy!"

"W-we can't fight against him!" a swordsman stammered. "Run! Ruuuuuun!"

"Dog's breath!" Aversa cursed as she beheld the unbelievable scene before her – Plegian troops fleeing before a lone enemy! "Worthless cowards, the lot of you!"

The knight simply watched silently, choosing to simply wait. The more he could draw this out, the better it would be for the Shepherds, after all.

Aversa clenched her teeth. "… Their fears are not without merit, however…" she continued. "Who _are_ you, boy? You look like any other noble-born brat with delusions of grandeur, but you fight like anything but a sheltered blueblood!"

The knight allowed a tiny smirk to cross his lips. "Oh? What's wrong?" he asked. "Do you intend to surrender? How did it go? Ah… 'If you beg for mercy, I may still be inclined to give it'?"

Aversa scowled as she raised a hand, mana beginning to crackle at her fingertips.

"And admit defeat? Me?! Don't be absurd…!"

The knight's grip on his longsword tightened as he took a half-step back, preparing for whatever spells the Plegian mage might be preparing to use against him.

Runes began to form around Aversa, but, before either the Plegian mage or the knight could react, a shadowy portal formed in the empty air between the two.

The knight's eyes widened as he beheld the magic gateway that pulsed with dark energies before him.

_'__This is… this is the same as…!'_

Out of the portal stepped a hooded figure. Her knee-length dark purple coat – and the body shape was decidedly that of a young woman, the knight thought – fluttered with the wind and her motions. A sash around the hooded figure's waist suspended a sheathed sword within its coils in addition to holding their coat closed. The coat's short sleeves and general design still left it open enough to expose the gold-trimmed, black long-sleeved tunic beneath it, as well as the hooded figure's beige trousers and dark leather combat boots and combat gloves.

_'__She's… no, she's not _her_…'_

The hooded figure glanced at the knight for a brief moment, giving him a glimpse of eerily familiar golden eyes, before she turned to face the white-haired Plegian.

"Withdraw, General Aversa…" she said coolly, her flat tone of voice so controlled it sounded almost unnatural.

Aversa scowled. "You…"

"Worry not about your king's wrath. There is nothing to fear," the hooded figure continued, almost patronizing in her admonishment of the Plegian mage. "I will explain everything to him. Take your men and retreat. Any more casualties will be deemed unacceptable."

The Plegian mage growled, glaring daggers at someone who the knight understood was at the very least her equal if not her superior in the Plegian hierarchy, before capitulating and giving a grudging nod of acceptance of her orders.

The knight watched as Aversa raised two fingers to her lips and let loose with a shrill whistle that sounded out over the mountain pass.

_'__A signal…?'_ he thought as he glanced left, and then right, looking for any surprises the Plegian mage might have kept in store and signalled with that whistle.

However, the knight didn't quite see anything so much as he _heard_ something – the sound of flapping wings being carried across the wind currents. The odd sound prompted the knight to risk taking his eyes off of the two Plegians for a brief moment in order to glance upwards at where he assumed the source was.

There, in the skies, was the origin of the sounds: a pitch-black pegasus gliding down directly toward them, its armor and trappings identifying it as belonging to someone of very high stature within the Plegian army.

_'__Ah… I see now…' _he thought, lowering his weapon and straightening his stance as the winged horse touched down next to Aversa._ 'So she's not actually a mage. She's a dark flier… that explains quite a fair amount.'_

Aversa swung up onto the saddle with practiced ease and directed a glare at the knight, who simply met the Plegian's gaze evenly.

"Consider yourself lucky, boy," she spat before she spurred her uniquely-colored pegasus into motion, her winged steed carrying its master into the skies and away from the battlefield.

The knight watched for a moment as the Plegian dark flier disappeared into the skies before realizing the hooded figure was still present and silently watching. He turned his attention to the silent figure and narrowed his deep cobalt eyes, matching her cold golden-eyed gaze with his own.

"… I don't suppose you're looking for a fight yourself?" he ventured.

The hooded figure chose to stare at the knight for a moment longer, prompting him to tense ever so slightly.

However, the silent woman simply turned away and opened another dark portal before stepping through it.

The knight remained rooted in his position long after the hooded figure and her portal had disappeared, still unable to get the image of her eyes out of his mind.

_'__Those eyes… they look _far_ too much like _hers_…'_ he thought with a grimace. _'But this person… she's not _her_. She's not the one who…'_

He forced himself to relax, trying to release the death grip he had on his longsword.

_'__No, don't think about that for now._'

He sighed, wondering why he was getting so worked up over nothing. After a few moments, he let out another sigh to try and bleed off some of his tension before he returned his attention to his surroundings.

After a final check, the knight was finally certain that all the Plegians had left the area and weren't actually preparing some sort of duplicitous tactic that might catch him off-guard. Now armed with the knowledge that it was safe to relax, he allowed himself to at least partially drop his guard as he returned his longsword to its normal resting place within the sheath hanging behind his left shoulder.

"I've done all I can here…" he murmured. "I need to get a move on and make up for the lost time…"

The knight turned, intending to start walking once more, but a voice called out to him before he'd even made it ten steps far.

"Wait!"

The knight stopped and turned in the voice's direction, keeping the surprise he felt from his features.

Standing a short distance behind him, just at the edge of the rise he'd been fighting on, was a familiar white-haired young man dressed in an equally familiar dark purple coat and beige shirt and trousers.

_'__Now, what might you want with me…?'_ the knight thought curiously as he beheld a familiar figure he hadn't expected to encounter quite so soon upon his return.

_'_… _Sir Tactician…'_


	10. Chapter Eight - Retreat

**Author's Note: Well, this chapter took a while, as per bloody usual. Apologies, but Fate/Grand Order is hell in game form. For those of you who play it, you might understand the suffering I go through.  
**

**All things considered, though, this chapter turned out pretty nicely even if I actually detest all this exposition. I sincerely hope you all enjoy it, though!**

**As is my norm, big thank yous all around to those who read, review, and support me and this story in spite of my rather sporadic update schedules. I sincerely hope you'll all stick around for what's to come, because everything so far has really only been the tip of a massive iceberg of a story concept and Alternate Universe.**

**Also as per usual, discussions, thoughts, feedback (anything beyond two words like "Nice chapter" or "Awesome work" will be most appreciated), and questions can be sent through reviews. I do take time to read each one, and for those of you who have done so you know I DO reply when capable.**

**We've got lots of original content this time around, as well, so I hope you all enjoy the world and character building present as I lay the stepping stones towards changing the world of Awakening! Naga be with you all!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem Awakening, or any associated characters, weapons, concepts, etc. that are found therein.**

* * *

_**Chapter Eight – Retreat**_

Location: Plegia-Ylisse Border

Robin almost took a step back when the mysterious knight turned to face him.

The knight's youthful features – and they were youthful enough that Robin couldn't believe just how _young_ the knight probably was – were possessed of a delicacy that wasn't completely down to his tender years, giving him a soft appearance that would have been almost feminine were it not tempered by the sort of hard expression that could only really come from having undergone harsh experiences that Robin could only begin to imagine.

However, while the contrast between the knight's tender age and hardened expression was rather jarring, that wasn't quite the aspect of his physical features that had caught Robin's attention the most.

_'__There's… there's no way…'_

What _did_ was the fact that the knight resembled another rather mysterious newcomer Robin had met not too long ago, and the resemblance between the two was far too uncanny for it to be any mere coincidence.

_'__He… looks almost like Lucina…'_

Aside from that touch of masculinity that differentiated the knight standing before him from Lucina, the two could have been almost copies of each other. Almost everything, from their hair color to the shape of the chin and even the slope of the eyebrows was a near perfect match.

However, what Robin saw in the knight's eyes – or rather, his one fully visible left eye and his partially obscured right eye – couldn't be any more different from what he'd seen in Lucina's. The tactician had to suppress a shiver as his hazel locked with the knight's cobalt, and it took all of his willpower to keep himself from getting sucked into the storm of barely supressed emotions that was swirling within the knight's dark sapphire irises.

_'__They're so alike… alike, yet so different…'_ Robin thought grimly, recalling the pain, the fear, and the anxiety he'd seen in Lucina's eyes that night when he'd hoped to speak to the girl and inadvertently stumbled upon her at a time when she was without her mask.

As for this knight standing before him now, the pain was clearly there – a raw, deep pain that seemed to radiate from the very core of his being – reminding Robin far too much of Lucina's own haunted expression.

However, that was as far as the similarities went.

_'__There's so much sorrow… so much anger… so much guilt… why do people as young as them have these kinds of eyes…?'_

Robin swallowed thickly against the lump within his throat, just managing to keep himself from being suffocated by the intensity of the emotions emanating from the knight's even gaze. Seeing all those raw emotions reflected so clearly within the knight's eyes left him with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He tried not to imagine what either of the two teens – and there was nothing suggesting they were anything _but_ teens – must have gone through for their eyes to reflect what they did.

"How may I help you, Sir Tactician…?" the knight suddenly said, his soft voice bringing the tactician from his thoughts and back to the present.

Robin blinked and then shook his head, almost as if he were trying to shake off the hold that the chilling image of the knight's eyes had on him.

"Oh, uh…" he said unintelligibly. "Well, I…"

The corners of the knight's lips curved up ever so lightly in the most subdued smile Robin had ever seen, a tiny bit of amusement twinkling in his eyes doing much to dissipate the intense emotions still roiling within the one visible iris not hidden behind his hair.

"Feel free to sort your thoughts out," the knight said softly, his smile growing just a tiny bit when Robin flushed in embarrassment. "However, you'd best make it quick. I can humor you for a moment, but neither of us have time to spare lingering about here for too long."

Robin shook his head and frowned. "N-no, that's…" he stammered, before he paused in his flustered floundering as the knight's words registered fully in his mind.

"… Wait," the tactician said, mind suddenly clear as he had something to focus upon. "What do you mean when you say neither of us have much time?"

The knight's own expression darkened. "I mean it exactly as I said it," he replied. "You need to get away from here quickly and return to Ylisstol as soon as you are able."

Robin's eyebrows furrowed. "Why Ylisstol? We're not that far out from Themis, and even damaged we can still use it as a base."

The knight shook his head, sending his ponytail swaying with the motion.

"You don't understand," he replied quietly.

Robin crossed his arms over his chest. "Make me understand, then."

The knight frowned at Robin's seeming obstinacy – and, really, if he were in the knight's place Robin might have been more than a little aggravated as well – before sighing softly.

"The Mad King will be mobilizing again very soon," he replied. "You can be assured that this time there won't be any sort of duplicity on his part. He's just going to march across the border with all of Plegia's military might behind him. Even if you sent word back to Ylisstol as soon as possible… the Ylissean Army wouldn't arrive in time before Themis fell before the might of a full-scale Plegian invasion."

Robin gasped. "An invasion so soon…?" he whispered. "Are you certain?"

The knight nodded. "Yes. I have it on good authority that the Plegian Army will be moving as early as before daybreak tomorrow."

_'__Damn it… that's not nearly enough time for us to return to Themis and prepare adequate defenses… not when the city's sustained as much damage as it has.'_

Robin grimaced. "So you're saying we have to evacuate the civilians and abandon the city…?"

"It's a harsh decision to have to make for so many people, I know," the knight acknowledged solemnly. "You may not like it, but you must see sense, Sir Tactician. Lost territory can be regained, and destroyed homes can be rebuilt. Innocent lives, however…"

The knight left the conclusion to his statement hanging wordlessly. He didn't need to say it, and he knew Robin understood his implications.

He let out a small sigh. "Innocent lives aside, this isn't the time or place for you to fight," he continued. "No leader in their right mind should needlessly throw lives away in a meaningless struggle that will only lead their own country down the road of destruction."

Robin grit his teeth at the indirect admonishment. "… I understand that," he reluctantly murmured. "I understand what you're saying, but…!"

_'__But, I can't just accept that…!'_ he thought in equal parts defiance and desperation. _'_Surely_ there's something that I can use to let us stem the tide! There has to be a way for us to win, there has to be…!'_

The tactician went through everything that he knew and could try to apply to his tactics: the local terrain around Themis, the composition of the company that accompanied the Shepherds and even the surviving soldiers from Themis…

_'__Come on, come on… there has to be something!'_

The tactician tried to think of just about any strategy, hoping against hope that there was something – _anything _ – that he could use as an alternative to simply abandoning the city. His expression fell progressively as idea after idea was considered and subsequently discarded.

_'__There… has to be…'_

The tactician dropped his head and tightly fisted his hands as he came to the realization that, no matter how desperately he grasped at any possibilities he could try to make use of, nothing would have given him a particularly good outcome.

"Is there… really nothing we can do…?" he whispered, admitting defeat and, with it, his own fallibility.

Unseen by the tactician, the knight gave him a look of what almost seemed to be sympathy.

"There may be nothing _else_ you can do," he said, his voice soft. "But do not mistake that for not being able to do anything at all."

Robin looked up. "That almost sounds like you're talking from experience…"

The knight's lips quirked upwards into a slight smile, his expression laced with the now-familiar self-depreciation and bitterness that he never seemed to shake off.

_'__There it is again…'_ Robin thought. _'What might be going through his mind, I wonder…?_

"Quite right," the knight agreed honestly, the bitterness in his smile translating into a tight voice. "I've had this sort of dilemma present itself to me quite a few times… more times than I'd have wanted."

_'__Ah… touched a nerve, have I…?'_ the tactician wondered, deciding to file away that little morsel for the future. _'Really, though, what _happened_ to you?'_

The knight sighed. "But that is all in my past, and not important to the current situation facing us right now."

Robin's lips twisted into a slight frown. _'Of course you'll say you aren't so you can deflect any questions I may have about you.'_

That said, he knew when trying to get any more information out of someone was a lost cause.

The tactician let out a little sigh, knowing he shouldn't push his luck too far. For now, it was better that he allow the knight to lead the conversation.

"So… what _is_ important, then?" he asked. "Is it the safety and well-being of the Exalt? If it is, you've said enough to make that point abundantly clear."

The knight nodded gravely. "Indeed. But not just the Exalt's…" he replied. "Do not forget the safety of the people she wishes to protect. Sacrificing a thousand to save one should never be an option."

He turned away from the tactician. "I must be going now," he said softly. "Just remember what I have told you today, Sir Tactician. The Exalt is our one shining beacon of hope in these dark times, and to lose her would potentially set us down a very dark path."

Robin watched as the cerulean-haired white knight began to walk away without even letting the tactician get any final words in. His stride was steady as he made his way towards one of the many different mountain paths leading away from the rise they'd been standing on.

The tactician would have been content letting him go… but a thought occurred to him as he remembered something curious in the knight's words.

_'__Wait… Sir Tactician…?'_

The tactician furrowed his brows. He definitely hadn't imagined being called that.

"Hold on a moment," he called out.

The knight stopped and turned to face him once more, head tilted in a wordless question.

"Just now… you called me 'Sir Tactician'," Robin remarked curiously. "… How did you know I'm a tactician?"

The knight blinked once, slowly, before his lips quirked up ever so slightly.

"Ah… I see," the young blue-haired knight commented lightly. "You're suspicious of me, are you not?"

Robin's jaw shot open at the accusation. "Now hold on, that's not–!" he squawked.

"Worry not, Sir, your concern is understandable," he said easily, cutting off the tactician's protest with an airy, almost dismissive wave of the hand. "It's actually not a difficult conclusion to come to. Your orders carry quite far, I'll have you know. Consider that the Prince of Ylisse and the Duke of Themis were both present on the field this day. It would have been only natural to assume that either of the two would have taken command. Wouldn't you agree?"

_'__I have to admit, he's got me there…'_

"However, they didn't," he continued. "Now, why is that? The most plausible reason they wouldn't be issuing orders directly would be because they – the prince, most likely, given his track record – might have delegated command authority to someone else… and it wouldn't take a genius to work out that that someone was the man whose voice carried above the din of combat as he shouted instructions."

_'__Ah. That's… actually a good point.'_

Robin cupped his chin thoughtfully. "Okay, I'll give you that," he said, fixing his gaze upon the knight's own. "But I still have to ask: how can I be sure I can trust you?"

The knight hesitated for a moment, looking away with an almost pained expression, and Robin almost felt as if he'd actually crossed a line he shouldn't have.

"You can't…" the knight whispered brokenly. "I have nothing that I can offer as proof of my claims or my goodwill… I have no believable reason I can give as to why you should trust me…"

He looked back up at Robin, and the tactician was taken aback by the fire burning in his eyes – those very same dark sapphire eyes that only minutes ago had been clouded with an almost all-consuming sorrow and guilt.

"But I must ask that you do," he continued, his voice still barely above a whisper. "Please, place your trust in me… and in the belief that I would not lead you astray."

Robin could only stare at the young knight, surprised at the total change in his demeanor. His words had not been spoken in the same hollow and broken voice he'd heard just seconds earlier.

No, his voice had been filled with a quiet strength and determination that mirrored the resolute gaze in his eyes, and that made coming up with a response to the knight's plea more difficult.

For better or worse, however, Robin was just as quickly saved from that particular problem by its origin, as the knight's expression lost much of its prior intensity.

"I truly must leave now," he said as he turned away. "You don't have to answer me straight away, and I promise that I will explain things to you the next time our paths cross. I wish you good fortunes until then."

The cerulean-haired knight made to depart, and this time Robin did not stop him from leaving as he began to walk away once more.

As much as he wanted to know more, Robin had to content himself with what he'd already learned today. He simply watched the knight disappear into the mountain range, the young teen heading for destinations unknown much like Lucina – in her guise as Marth – had done back when they'd met in that forest.

Robin, however, remained rooted to his spot long after the knight had left, his thoughts clearly elsewhere as he contemplated the knight's parting words to him.

_"__Please, place your trust in me… and in the belief that I would not lead you astray."_

Robin couldn't help but frown as he wondered how he was supposed to reply to that. The words repeated themselves in the tactician's head over and over, even after he had taken his own leave of the rise and was already on his way back down to rejoin the Shepherds.

Logic would dictate the response was extremely simple: don't trust someone you know nothing about. Tactician training would dictate that you didn't trust anything from someone you weren't familiar with.

Robin had already defied all of that once before, hadn't he? He'd already extended his trust to Lucina without question, just as she had with him.

His gut instinct – probably _the_ most important vote when it came to making decisions – told him that the knight was worth trusting. He'd saved Maribelle and Ricken without question, and Robin had reason to suspect he was even aligned with – maybe even related to – Lucina somehow.

Surely he could do the same here… couldn't he?

* * *

Robin took a bit longer than he normally might have getting back down to the Shepherds, distracted as he was by his own thoughts.

He absently wondered if they would have actually left him behind had he not been punctual in his return, but the sight of the Shepherds milling about at the foot of the pass – along with a squad of Ylissean pegasus knights, curiously enough – put paid to those thoughts.

_'__Well, that's a welcome sight…'_ he thought to himself, noting with mild interest and offhand satisfaction the knights who remained airborne. _'Everyone's still here, and we've got friendly company. I'll take that as a sign that Emmeryn made it back safely.'_

He could only hope that was what their presence meant, at least.

"Chrom!" he called out to the blue-haired prince as he approached, hand raised in greeting. "I'm sorry I'm late."

The prince looked up from where he'd been seated on a squat boulder before jumping to his feet, his face lighting up in a smile.

"Nonsense, my friend," he said as he moved to clasp Robin's hand with his own. "If you _were_ late, we'd have at least tried looking for you by now."

Robin grinned. "That's a good thought to have," he remarked, before indicating the pegasus knights with his head. "Emmeryn made it back alright, I assume?"

"Yes, and Phila sent us two squads to serve as an armed escort, as well," Chrom confirmed. "I sent Duke Themis, Lissa, Maribelle, Miriel, and Ricken back ahead with one squad. The rest decided to stick with me and wait for your return."

The tactician nodded. "I see…"

_'__They _chose_ to wait? But, that's…'_

"… That's… that's good news," he managed to get out after a moment of pause, unable to fully cover his surprised stammer. "I'm… surprised you all chose to wait, though."

Chrom chuckled. "We're Shepherds, Robin," he replied. "And we leave no man – or woman – behind."

_'__That's all well and good, Chrom, but… what if it comes to war and you have to sacrifice someone? What then?'_

Robin gave a minute shake of the head, hoping against hope that Chrom merely took it as one of exasperation rather than anything else.

"Well, I'm here now, so you won't have to be leaving anyone behind," he said, giving a small chuckle.

Chrom nodded. "Indeed," he replied, before his expression grew more serious. "So, did you learn anything about our mysterious helper?"

Robin sighed. "Not really, no. He was about as helpful as Marth was in that regard."

The prince raised an eyebrow at that. "You mean offering cryptic warnings and just leaving without answering any questions?"

_'__I wonder how Lucina would react to that…'_ Robin thought with an amused smile.

"You know it," he replied, before his smile quickly turned into a frown.

"That said, while I didn't learn much about him, I _did_ learn something," he added. "However, it'll have to wait until we get back to Themis. How long until we can get going?"

Chrom frowned, having noticed the sense of urgency present in the tactician's tone.

"Not too long, but…" he trailed off, before leaning in closer.

"Robin, you're not ever one to be in a hurry," the prince whispered, clear concern lacing his words even as he tried to keep his voice down. "Is there something wrong?"

Robin cut Chrom off with a minute shake of the head.

"Yes, but time is of the essence here, Chrom," he insisted. "I promise I'll fill you in later, but you just have to trust me and get everyone ready to move _now_."

The prince frowned. "Okay, Robin, what's troubling you?" he asked. "Why are you so insistent we pull out so quickly? Why can't you just tell me?"

_'__Bloody hell, Chrom, we're all going to _die_ if we don't get back as soon as possible. Besides, if I told you what it was right now, you'd decide on your own to hole up in Themis and make a stand in a place we clearly can't defend.'_

"It's something your sister and the Duke would want to hear, as well," Robin replied, his tone a little too terse for his own. "It's better if you all hear it at once."

Chrom's lips mirrored Robin's own in a frown. "Is what you learned from him _truly_ that bad?"

Robin nodded again. "Yeah… if he's right – and I really hope he's not – we're going to be in big trouble."

Chrom regarded him for a moment, his blue eyes searching the tactician's hazel for any indicator as to what he might be thinking.

For his part, Robin simply returned Chrom's gaze evenly, knowing that the prince's decision would likely hinge on what he saw in his own expression

Finally, seemingly satisfied with what he found, Chrom pulled back and nodded in assent.

"Very well, then," he said, giving a little sigh. "You seem sure enough of yourself, and I have to trust my tactician to make the right calls."

Robin couldn't help the smile that crossed his lips. "Thank you, Chrom."

The prince only offered a light shrug before he turned and began calling out orders to move out.

* * *

Location: Themis

"Chrom!" Emmeryn called out as she quickly strode up to her brother and enveloped him in a tight hug. "I'm so glad to see you unharmed…"

Robin watched as Chrom returned his older sister's embrace a little more sedately, but it put a smile on the tactician's face to see the prince still give her a reassuring squeeze as he clearly relished in the comfort of his sister's touch.

Just behind the Exalt, Robin could see Frederick and Phila following in the Exalt's footsteps, both wearing uncharacteristically warm expressions on their faces as they watched the two siblings interact.

_'__It's not just warmth, though…'_ the tactician thought. _'There's something else… fondness maybe? '_

He almost smiled at the thought.

_'__Well, I suppose even knights as serious and duty-bound as them would find this scene heartwarming, really… especially if you consider how those two have probably watched over and cared for Emmeryn, Chrom, and Lissa for years now.'_

"I'm sorry, Emm," Chrom said lowly as he released the Exalt and took a step backwards, his expression clearly one of shame and contrition. "I acted rashly, and in doing so I undid all the work you put in towards finding a peaceful resolution."

Emmeryn shook her head and gave Chrom a sad smile. "You did no such thing, Chrom," she replied. "As much as it pains me to admit, there truly was no hope for that sort of outcome. Gangrel played us for fools – played _me_ for a fool. He forced you to make a difficult choice, and you, in turn, chose to protect me. It is he who is at fault for this situation, not you."

"Emm… you're not…"

The Exalt sighed and shook her head in an almost rueful manner.

"Hush now, Chrom," she said. "I have already said that I hold you blameless, so please… do not punish yourself any further."

Chrom made to speak, but whatever words he'd been formulating died on his lips when faced with his sister's pleading expression.

The prince could only nod in acquiescence, prompting a pleased – if somewhat smug and victorious – smile from the Exalt.

_'__Heh… looks like Chrom really can't say no, can he?'_ Robin thought. _'Especially not with that look she was giving him.'_

The tactician refocused on the scene in front of him as Frederick stepped forward and cleared his throat.

"Milord, Your Grace…" he started, waiting until he'd gained the attention of both royals before continuing. "As much as we would like to give you the time for these personal exchanges, there is much to be done now that Gangrel has declared war upon us. The Mad King will be rallying his forces, if he has not already done so preemptively. We must begin to make preparations as soon as we are able."

Emmeryn nodded. "Of course, Frederick," she agreed with a tone that was one of just slight reluctance. "It seems that war truly is upon us."

_'__Not surprising, really…'_ Robin thought. _'Agreeing with Frederick's words here pretty much sealed the deal – as she herself said, we're at war now.'_

That being said, this here was his chance to speak up, and inform Chrom and Emmeryn about the knight's cryptic warnings.

However… it brought him back to his original dilemma: could he trust the mysterious knight's words?

"We should head for the war room and begin preparing our strategy," he heard Chrom say. "No doubt the Plegians will be attacking us very soon, and we'd best be ready for when they do."

As the group prepared to make their way back towards the Duke's villa, Robin paused to quickly assess the options available to them given what he'd learned earlier today in the mountain pass.

If the knight was right and they chose to retreat, they would have saved countless lives.

If the knight was wrong and they chose to retreat, then they would have simply lost territory that they could still take back.

If the knight was right and they chose to stay and prepare for the invasion, they'd just get wiped out to the last man.

If the knight was wrong and they chose to stay, they'd clearly have called the bluff and would then have an enormous amount of time to mobilize the Ylissean Army and prepare for engagement.

Robin gave a minute shake of his head as he looked at the possibilities arrayed before him.

_'__There's almost _no_ choice…! I can't take such a blatant risk!'_

As difficult a decision as it was for any tactician to take, Robin knew that risking innocent lives by not heeding a warning given – however cryptic or questionable it was – would be the height of idiocy and completely unforgiveable.

"As Chrom said, there's no doubt that the Plegians will be coming," he said as he took a step forward, resisting the urge to grimace or groan as everyone's attention turned back towards him. "However, I have reason to believe that the attack will come even faster than we might realize, and we'll be ill-equipped to deal with it when it _does_ come."

Emmeryn frowned. "What do you mean by that, Tactician Robin?"

Robin bowed lightly. "If Your Grace would allow it, I'd like to discuss what I've learned today – along with possible courses of action – when Duke Themis is around as well. I believe what I have to share with you all is something that he'll very much want and need to hear."

The Exalt's expression grew grave, almost as if she'd understood the implications of Robin's words without him ever even directly hinting at it.

"… Very well," she said simply after a moment's consideration. "Phila?"

The steel-haired falcon knight was at the Exalt's shoulder almost instantly. "Yes, Your Grace."

"Please find Duke Themis and let him know that his presence is required in the war room," Emmeryn said calmly. "I understand he would like to be with his daughter given the ordeals she has had to endure over the past few days, but tell him that this is a matter of grave importance and that we do not have much time to spare."

Phila bowed. "It will be done," she replied.

As her knight left, Emmeryn turned her attention back to the snow-haired tactician and smiled, a now all-too-familiar look in her calm, grey-green eyes.

"I suppose we would best get going, yes?" she suggested easily enough. "It would not do for the Duke to arrive before we do."

Robin tried to keep any reaction from his face as a block of ice solidified in his gut.

Emmeryn was placing her trust in him to guide them – again.

* * *

"So, let me get this straight," Chrom commented, a frown creasing his brow. "You're telling me that, even as we speak, Plegia's troops are already preparing to mobilize for an invasion of Ylisse? And that you were told this by that mystery swordsman who showed up and saved Ricken and Maribelle at the pass?"

He and Robin, along with Emmeryn, Frederick, Phila, and Duke Themis, were gathered around the central table in the war room, a map of the Halidom of Ylisse and the border territories of its neighbouring countries spread out over the polished wooden top.

Duke Themis cupped his chin in thought. "These are bold claims, lad," he commented. "Were I not there to see the young man myself, I'd have thought you mad and him a figment of your wild imagination."

Frederick shook his head. "The fact even Milord's reaction is incredulous at best is incredibly damaging to Sir Robin's case."

Robin nodded. "I know, even _I_ think I sound crazy," the tactician acknowledged. "However, I also think that the potential risks are too great for us to simply discount his words."

"I would think 'crazy' is quite the understatement," Duke Themis replied, the man offering Robin a wry smile for a moment before growing serious once more. "However, if he's speaking the truth, we definitely won't be able to hold the line here long enough for reinforcements to arrive. Themis is in no condition to withstand a siege."

Chrom looked up at the older man. "Duke Themis…"

Beside the prince, Emmeryn watched as the three men conversed, the corners of her lips curved downwards in a thoughtful frown.

The Duke chuckled mirthlessly. "Themis will be overrun long before the rest of the Ylissean army can even begin to mobilize, Prince. It's not a hard conclusion to come to, given his story. In fact, I'm already quite sure I know why your tactician wanted me to be here."

Confusion crossed Chrom's expression, but the way Emmeryn's eyes had widened ever so slightly was an indication she was – at the very least – beginning to piece together the thoughts that were running through Robin's mind.

"Duke Themis, you can't mean to say that Tactician Robin…" she murmured.

Chrom looked between the Duke and his sister, his expression making it clear he was unable to follow their silent leaps of logic.

"Emm? Duke Themis? What do you mean?" he asked.

The Duke simply inclined his head towards the white-haired tactician standing across from him.

"Well, Prince, if we are reading the situation right – and between Her Grace and myself I don't think we can be _that_ wrong – your tactician here already has a plan of action in mind assuming we choose to trust in his words. In fact, I think he's probably had his plan in mind ever since he asked for me to be here, and the fact that he _did_ ask me to be here before he started talking gives me a very good idea as to what his plan is."

Before Chrom could even ask what he meant with what he said, the Duke fixed Robin with an appraising glare.

"Tell me, Tactician Robin. You'd have us give up the city and retreat back to Ylisstol, wouldn't you?"

Chrom whipped about to face his tactician. "Robin, you'd… have us retreat…? Give up ground – give up _Ylissean soil_ – to Plegia?!"

The prince's voice shook as he spoke – though whether it was from shock or anger the tactician couldn't tell. All he _could _tell was that the prince's expression was that of someone who felt as if he'd just been betrayed by an ally he'd come to trust.

_'__I'm sorry, Chrom… but that story you told me from before about other tacticians? … Maybe they were right on some level about you when they said that you didn't – and don't – see the bigger picture…'_

Robin straightened, steeling himself and his gaze as he faced the questioning eyes of everyone else at the table, Chrom and Duke Themis most of all.

"… Yes, I would, Sir," he replied evenly after a pause. "My reasoning is actually very simple: Lost territory can be regained. Lost lives cannot. If it means we can save as many lives as we are able, then surely…"

The room was silent for a moment as the others took time to digest the tactician's words, before the Duke let out a bark of laughter that was wholly lacking in any form of humor.

"It pains me to say I cannot find fault in your logic, tactician, however simple it actually is," he remarked grimly, suddenly looking incredibly tired.

The Duke sighed deeply, and to Robin it seemed almost as if the older man had aged ten years.

"However, you will find that Marcus the man cannot so simply agree with you the way Marcus the commander would. Themis is my city, my home. Being told that we will be abandoning the city will not be an easy thing for me or my people to accept."

Robin looked away. "Duke Themis, I… I can understand if you might have any misgivings…"

The Duke raised a hand, cutting the tactician off.

"Stop right there, lad," he said, his tone one of gentle admonishment. "Just humor me for a few minutes."

Robin blinked, unable to keep the surprise from his features. "Duke Themis?"

The older man closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "Listen here, and listen well, Tactician Robin. You'd do best to hear this before anything else."

He opened his eyes and locked gazes with the tactician.

"Now is _not_ the time for you to be second guessing yourself."

Robin recoiled at the man's words, unable to hide the surprise at having been so easily seen through by the older man.

Duke Themis smiled wryly.

"You shouldn't be so surprised," he said. "I've been through that phase you're currently going through. It might not be in your face, but it's definitely in your eyes."

Robin swallowed past the rising lump in his throat. He felt more than a little cornered and exposed right now with how the older man was phrasing is words.

"Heh. Don't ever doubt yourself just because you find yourself in a difficult situation with no easy answers, lad," the Duke continued. "A man in a position like yours or mine _will_ need to make difficult decisions like this at some point or another. It's an unavoidable fact."

_'_… _He has me completely figured out.'_

Robin could only nod dumbly as Duke Themis systematically exposed his performance anxiety in front of Chrom and Frederick. He'd have been more worried about Emmeryn also being present to hear it, but the knowledge that she most likely already knew about his issues since Ylisstol served to calm him ever so slightly.

That said, he wondered what the Exalt _actually_ thought of his issues, and whether her constant supposed belief in him was only out of respect for her younger brother's wishes or if she wanted to continue to test his mettle and his resolve.

As if on cue, Emmeryn nodded as well, and it surprised Robin when he realized from the light expression on her face that she actually seemed to be agreeing with the Duke's words.

"Duke Themis is right, Tactician Robin," she said gently, her soft voice soothing the tactician's frayed nerves even as she confirmed his own thoughts. "Chrom and I are in agreement when we say that your words and actions have been more than enough proof that you are worthy of our unconditional trust and our faith."

Robin's eyes widened, unable to quite hide the genuine surprise and awe he felt at the Exalt's words.

"Your Grace…"

Emmeryn glanced at him and gave him a minute nod, her lips curving upwards into a reassuring smile as if she knew exactly what he was feeling that very moment.

To Robin, it was almost as if she were silently telling him _'Worry not. We believe in you.'_

_'__Heh… Chrom wasn't kidding when he said Emmeryn was an amazing ruler.'_

The Duke cupped a hand to his chin and hummed thoughtfully as he took in the Exalt's words.

"Hmm… I see…" he murmured to himself as he began to stare distantly at nothing.

Nobody moved or spoke while the Duke considered their situation and Robin's plan, although Robin did notice Emmeryn share a meaningful look with Phila, one that he couldn't quite decipher.

If Robin were completely honest, it was incredibly easy to see why the Duke might harbour doubts about his story. The fates of an entire city and its inhabitants were riding on the decisions that were going to be made here in this war room, after all. It wasn't going to be an easy decision to make in the slightest, regardless of who was being asked to make it.

For the man who ruled over the city and people in question, the burden and pressure might almost be untenable.

_"__A man in a position like yours or mine _will_ need to make difficult decisions like this at some point or another. It's an unavoidable fact."_

Robin's eyes widened ever so slightly as the Duke's words echoed in the back of his mind.

_'__He was speaking from experience… wasn't he…?'_

The realization made the Duke's pensive expression begin to make plenty more sense to Robin… although the tactician also privately wondered if the older man was actually thinking of a situation in the past that mirrored what was facing them now in the present.

However, before Robin could even begin to wonder what it was that lay behind the Duke's distant eyes, the older man let out a heavy sigh.

"Alright," he said simply. "I've decided."

Robin tried not to let his nervousness show as the Duke turned to face him, choosing instead to keep

"I… don't think we have many alternatives," he began slowly, almost as if he were still second-guessing himself for a brief moment before pressing on. "Given our situation, trusting in the assumptions made based on your story seems like our best option."

Robin could only incline his head. "I know that I'm asking a lot when I ask you all to trust me on this, Sir," he admitted. "It's especially true for you, given that it's your city and your people at stake. I realize it can't be an easy decision for you."

The Duke actually chuckled.

"Well, I certainly can't deny that," he said, eyes glittering with some faint traces of amusement. "However, after the Exalt has given you such a sincere vote of confidence, I think the least I can do is give you my own trust."

Robin's jaw shot open. _'Wait, _what_?!'_

Emmeryn stepped towards the Duke and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Duke Marcus… are you certain?" she asked, concern evident in her grey-green eyes.

The older man nodded in affirmation.

"Yes, I am," he replied easily.

_'__WHAT?!'_

Utterly gobsmacked, the tactician couldn't even believe what he was hearing from the man.

_'__Wait, wait, wait, wait! Why are you willing to trust in me and in a plan based entirely upon assumptions?!'_

Robin was so engulfed in his own chaotic, discombobulated thoughts that the Duke's next words almost flew right over his head.

"You've given him your blessing, Your Grace, and I know for a fact that you've always been a magnificent judge of character."

The Duke turned to face Robin, who stood absolutely frozen with eyes wide and mouth hanging open. If he found anything about the tactician's expression amusing, he certainly was doing a magnificent job of hiding it.

"I, too, think you have risen to the occasion splendidly when push came to shove, lad," he continued as he walked around the table to stand before the flabbergasted tactician. "I've had the opportunity to witness your ability and your tactical judgement first-hand. Her Grace believes in it, and your actions since arriving here have given me reason to at the very least do the same."

Robin jumped as the Duke put a firm hand on the tactician's shoulder.

"The fate of my people is in your hands, Tactician Robin," he said. "Now, please, show us your plan."

Robin was almost too shocked to react, but the confident nod from Chrom and the soft, supportive smile from Emmeryn reminded him of the fact that in spite of his known shortcomings the two had still chosen to put their trust in him.

Keeping thoughts of their support in mind, Robin mustered up the nerve to look the Duke in the eye and give him a firm nod.

"… T-thank you, Sir," he said, hoping his shaky resolve somehow managed to hold itself together until he could retreat to a more private location later on.

Looking at everyone else, he added, "I'll try not to let you all down."

The Duke smiled tightly as Emmeryn stepped forward.

"I'm sure you will not disappoint, my friend," she said. "Rest assured we will try not to let you down, either."

* * *

Robin all but collapsed into a chair next to the war room's main table, leaning an elbow against the table's top and bringing a hand up to rub at his tired eyes and throbbing temples and forehead. Maps, open books, parchments, and strategy pieces were scattered across the table the tactician was leaning against, evidence to the amount of work that had gone into the strategy meeting that had ended up lasting almost the entirety of the day.

As it was, he was the only person still remaining in the war room. Emmeryn, Phila, and Duke Themis had left much earlier in the day to speak to the people of the city about the planned evacuation, leaving Chrom and Frederick to stay with him for another hour or two in order to discuss troop deployment plans for the journey home.

If he were completely honest with everyone – himself, especially – Robin was beginning to doubt his actual capability for foresight and troop micro- and macro-management. True, it had been his idea to evacuate Themis and retreat back to Ylisstol, but he'd grossly underestimated the amount of planning needed to facilitate a mass exodus of an entire city's population.

The details that needed to be considered and micromanaged were almost overwhelming, and were it not for the fact that he wasn't the only mind working on the evacuation plan Robin was sure he might have been buried beneath everything he needed to keep track of.

First off, he needed to make sure they were adequately supplied to feed such a large group of people. Second, he needed to make sure everyone would be able to make the journey, and that meant making sure those who were unfit to make the journey on foot with the main bulk of their small army and had to be taken ahead via horseback, wagon, or pegasi were given the priorities. Then there was the problem of convincing everyone that it was in their best interests to leave their homes behind. He'd initially thought that would be almost impossible given people tended to not want to leave their homes, but his fears were allayed when Exalt Emmeryn and Duke Marcus both assured him they would be able to handle that particular problem.

_'__That's one less problem to deal with, thankfully,' _he thought. _'It's a good thing they were gracious enough to help me out on that front, too… we already have a lot to think about just sorting out the logistics of the situation.'_

A knock on the war room's door drew him away from his thoughts, bringing him back to reality as he was alerted of the presence of a visitor.

"It's open," the tactician called out tiredly.

_'__Please don't be anyone who wants to discuss the plan… That's about the last thing I want to be talking or thinking about right now…'_

He almost sighed audibly with relief when Lissa poked her head in from behind the opening door.

"Hey, Robin! Do you have a minute to spare?" the princess asked, her cheery smile giving the tactician a much needed boost of energy.

"I'm not busy," he replied easily, returning the smile with a rather wan one of his own. "Do you need me for anything?"

Lissa shook her head. "Not at all, actually," she replied.

Robin frowned. "Okay… so why are you here, then?" he ventured cautiously, hoping this wasn't another one of Lissa's schemes or pranks.

_'__I'm not forgetting what she pulled with those frogs any time soon…'_

Lissa grinned. "Don't be so suspicious!" she chided teasingly.

Robin was sorely tempted to point out that he had _every reason_ to be suspicious of the princess given her previous track record.

"Anyway, I'm not the one who wants to see you," Lissa continued. "All I'm doing here is breaking the ice for someone who _does_."

_'__Someone who wants to see me…?'_ he parroted internally, now thoroughly confused. _'What?'_

Lissa disappeared behind the door for a moment, exchanging a few muffled words with the other person that Robin couldn't quite hear even if he strained his ears.

Before the tactician could even wonder what was actually being said, Lissa quickly reappeared at his door, leading a protesting – and clearly flustered – Maribelle by the hand until she was standing before Robin.

_'_… _Well. This was certainly not expected,'_ he thought as Lissa left with a cheery wave, before he focused on Maribelle.

She looked far and away much better than she had this morning when they'd rescued her, no doubt thanks to the care that had been afforded her by Lissa and the other healers that had accompanied them. Aside from a few angry welts where he remembered she'd been bruised quite badly by the Plegians' rough handling of her, she seemed to be wearing no other external signs of the experience she'd had to go through.

Noticing that the blonde noblewoman was fidgeting nervously, Robin decided to at least break the tension and put her at ease.

"Ah, Lady Maribelle, good evening," he greeted, moving to stand. He'd barely made it onto his feet before his gaze wavered and swam.

The next few moments were suddenly a blur of motion, and all Robin knew was that one moment he'd been standing, and the next he was back in his seat with Maribelle steadying him in an upright seating position with a surprisingly firm grip.

"W-wha… what happened…?" he mumbled.

Maribelle frowned. "You nearly fainted when you stood to greet me," she replied.

_'__Ah…'_

"You're showing quite a few signs of exhaustion, Tactician," the blonde remarked as her intense burgundy gaze bore right into Robin. "I'd suggest you not get up again without someone around to steady you. As it is, you were lucky enough that you didn't hit your limit beforehand. How long has it been since you last had a proper night of rest?"

Robin blinked. This… this was _definitely_ not what he'd expected.

"Probably… not since we found out Themis was attacked…?" he murmured. "I've had a lot to do, after all…"

Maribelle shook her head. "That won't do," she commented. "That won't do at all, Tactician. You _must_ get your rest whenever you are able."

The tactician found himself completely flummoxed by Maribelle's behavior.

"Are… are you alright…?" he blurted out, the words leaving his lips before his tired mind could even process the thoughts that he'd vocalized.

Maribelle's eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment before narrowing angrily, her brows furrowed in displeasure.

"Am I alright? _Am I alright?!_" she all but shrieked as her hands grabbed fistfuls of his coat. "_That_ is a question I should be asking _you_, Mister! I'm not the one who can't even stand on his own two feet! Why, I'll have you know…"

As the girl launched into a heated rant, Robin could only wonder in stunned silence just what had happened in the world for Maribelle to suddenly show him some semblance of care and concern when all previous instances of them interacting had been her being a condescending snob – not that he'd ever let her know of _that_ particular opinion.

The change in her demeanor was enough to make him consider if he wasn't actually under the enemy's spell or in some parallel dream world or alternate universe.

"… I doubt you've even allowed yourself anything that even remotely resembles a break, and… are you even listening to me?!"

Maribelle's shrieked question jolted Robin back to the present, his wide hazel eyes meeting the blonde noblewoman's angry burgundy as she took a close – almost _too_ close, if he were perfectly honest – look at his face.

_'__I'm screwed, aren't I…?'_

"Oh, gods, you're even worse off than I had imagined!" she commented, pulling away and beginning to pace about the war room. "You can't even pay full attention anymore! I need to tell the Prince that you're being overwor–!"

Robin immediately sat up straight at the mention of her mentioning his exhaustion to Chrom.

"Wait, wait, wait, hold on just a moment," Robin said, attempting to rise from his seat before his vision swam once again.

Faster than he could have imagined, Maribelle was at his side and easing him back down into his chair before he could collapse into a sprawled heap on the floor.

"Goodness, did you not hear me the first time?" she said, equal amounts of concern and exasperation lacing her tone. "Please, Tactician, do us both a favour and stay seated."

Robin resisted the urge to rub at his eyes and forehead.

"I did, and believe me when I say that I'd gladly do as you say," he said. "… I wouldn't blame you if you said that you find that difficult to believe, though. I think most everything about me is difficult to believe."

A smile touched Maribelle's lips. "At least you're aware of that fact."

Robin shook his head, unable to resist a wan smile of his own from twisting his own lips for a brief moment before he grew serious once more.

"Still, I'd really appreciate it if you could do me a favor and _not_ tell Chrom I'm exhausted."

Maribelle's eyebrows shot up. "What?!" she exclaimed. "A-are you mad?!"

"Look, the last thing Chrom needs is another thing on his mind," Robin fired back. "As it is, we need everyone to be pouring all their energy into the war effort. If Chrom finds out, it could prove to be the sort of distraction that could potentially cost us everything."

The blonde noblewoman stared at Robin for a brief moment, the gears of her mind almost visible as they worked behind her eyes, before she gave a slight smile.

"I see… so that is why Lissa, Prince Chrom, and Her Grace have taken so kindly to you…"

_'__Huh?'_

Robin frowned. "I don't quite understand."

Maribelle shook her head. "No, forget I said anything," she replied. "I fear I may have just misjudged you entirely based on a poor first impression."

_'__That makes two of us, really…'_ Robin thought, frowning in thought as he went over his own poor impressions of Maribelle judging from her behavior when they first met.

For her part, the blonde noblewoman seemed to misunderstand the expression on his face.

"Is… something amiss?" she asked, more than a little hesitation present in both her voice and her facial expression.

Robin blinked. "Oh, no, nothing's wrong," he replied easily. "I was just… thinking about what you said, really, and that you might not be the only one guilty of misjudging someone based on a poor first impression."

Maribelle nodded thoughtfully. "Ah… if it would not be a bother to you, might I inquire as to your thoughts?"

The tactician looked away.

"Well, I… I'm surprised by the care you're suddenly showing," Robin said, and if he were to be completely honest he'd admit he was just as surprised by how timid he actually sounded. "I know from our previous encounters that you're not especially fond of me, but…"

Maribelle's mouth made a small 'o' for a moment, the gears of her mind turning behind her burgundy eyes as the pieces of the puzzle clicked.

"… Oh. I-it's not a question of fondness, Tactician," she replied quickly. "I am simply protective of my darling Lissa. My treasure is very sensitive, and…"

Robin tried not to laugh as Maribelle rambled on. _'If only you knew that she'd throw a fit at being described as 'sensitive'.'_

"… Wait. Am I really justifying myself to a commoner?" the noblewoman suddenly asked, eyes wide in horror. "Gods above, I am, aren't I…"

_'__Yes, yes, you were, Maribelle. I'll pretend I didn't hear you refer to me as a commoner, but, yes, you were.'_

Maribelle placed a gloved hand against her forehead. "Dear heavens… Yes, well, I do… apologize for being so curt with you in all instances prior. Rest assured that I… do not bear any ill will towards you."

Robin found himself very surprised when he witnessed a light pink dusted itself over Maribelle's pale cheeks.

"And… And…" she stammered out. "And you have my thanks for your part in the rescue. There, I said it!"

_'__She's surprisingly earnest…_' Robin thought with a smile. _'It's almost cute how she wears her heart on her sleeve, actually.'_

The tactician chuckled, thoroughly amused by this new and different side to the blonde noblewoman that he was seeing.

Maribelle's cheeks darkened in accordance with Robin's unexpected reaction.

"W-what, pray tell, do you find so amusing?!" she asked, face now cherry red. "Answer me, Tactician, or so Naga help me I will beat some manners into you!"

Robin this time was unable to resist erupting into laughter, much to Maribelle's embarrassment, and said laughter would continue on for several minutes. The tactician tried several times to calm himself down, but it took only another look at the noblewoman's flushed face for him to descend into a fresh bout of hysterics.

After he'd reached the point when his stomach and cheeks ached from too much laughing, Robin was finally able to bring himself back under some semblance of control, although the tactician still let out a few chuckles here and there as he tried to settle back down.

"Are you quite done?" Maribelle asked.

Robin nodded. "I am, I am," he said breathlessly between dying laughs. "I-I'm sorry. I just couldn't resist laughing."

Maribelle sighed. "I hope that truly is the case," she remarked. "I'd hate for you to undo all the positive changes to my opinion of you by making a mockery of me, Tactician."

Said tactician masked one final chuckle with a cough.

"Right, right… I apologize if I unknowingly insulted you, Lady Maribelle," he said, bowing as much as he could in his seat.

Maribelle gave him an appraising look for a brief moment before a sigh once again slipped past her lips.

"I suppose I could let this slide…" she said, and Robin had the feeling she was deliberately being overly dramatic. "If we are to start things over, it would be best that we start on the right foot, yes?"

Robin nodded in agreement before he slowly began to rise to his feet, using his arms to support his tired body and leaden legs.

Maribelle's eyes widened. "Tactician!" she said, stepping forward to try to help him – or, more likely, push him back down into his seat – before said tactician raised a hand to stop her short.

"I was taught… that no man should allow himself…" Robin grunted out as he rose to his feet. "… to be introduced to a lady of court… while seated…"

Once he was steady on both feet, the tactician straightened his posture, taking as much time as he could so as to avoid a repeat of his earlier episodes.

"It would reflect… rather poorly on me if I stayed seated," he said once he was standing straight, the angle of his head tilted ever so slightly so he could lock eyes with the shorter Maribelle. "As you said… 'it would be best if we start on the right foot, yes?'"

Maribelle smiled in approval. "Yes, quite right," she said, before taking hold of her skirt and giving a polite curtsey. "My name is Maribelle, Sir Tactician. I am the heir to the Duchy of Themis, and a member of Chrom's Shepherds. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"And my name is Robin," he introduced, giving Maribelle a courtly half-bow. "I'm… the tactician of the Shepherds, but it would please me if you refer to me by name rather than by title, as I would rather not be separated from my comrades by superficial things like titles or ranks. It is good to meet you."

As they rose from their greetings, Maribelle smirked playfully.

"You do well in courtly manners for one who is afflicted with amnesia," she commended, a wicked gleam in her eye. "Still a little rough around the edges, but with a little help, you may actually become quite the role model for other Ylissean courtiers."

Here her smirk grew wider. "Maybe I should take it upon myself to educate you on the intricacies of high society and courtly behavior?"

Robin almost felt his opinion of Maribelle change once again.

_'__What have I gotten myself into _this_ time…?'_

* * *

Location: Western Ylisse, Outskirts of Themis

Robin raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun beating down overhead, allowing him to more easily look out over the column of people – the people of Themis – walking past the small rise he was standing on.

Somehow, the evacuation had proceeded without a hitch, and after having spread the word to the people they were already. No one had really offered up much resistance to the idea of leaving their homes, which in itself was a great surprise to the tactician given how _he_ might have felt had he been in their position.

_'__Could I really leave my home behind if asked to do so…?'_ he wondered as his eyes scanned the main road leading towards central Ylisse, noting that Ylissean soldiers were moving as he and Chrom had discussed previously: pairs of light cavalry served as 'checkpoints' for the people to follow, while entire squads and platoons of foot soldiers patrolled the main road in set intervals.

The barest hints of a smile both bitter and wan touched his lips. _'Heh… I don't think I would be able to,'_ he thought wryly._ 'So much for not asking people to do something I wouldn't be willing to do myself.'_

Robin sighed at that line of thought. He could only imagine how things would have gone had he or maybe even Chrom been the one to break the news to the people of the city.

All he could really say was that it certainly wouldn't have gone over as well as it apparently had.

_'__Duke Marcus and Exalt Emmeryn are miracle workers to have gotten all these people to go along with the evacuation plan without anyone raising a fuss over it.'_

Robin chuckled dryly. "It looks like I have much to learn, still…" he murmured to himself.

"Maybe, but you really shouldn't sell yourself short."

Robin made a conscious effort not to jump at the unexpected intrusion. He turned – doing his best to make the motion as nonchalant as possible so as not to give away his surprise – to face Chrom as the other man walked up to him, Frederick ever present at his shoulder. The big knight offered the tactician a small nod of acknowledgement, something which the latter took to be a good sign.

It was certainly a lot more than he'd gotten from the man in previous encounters, so it had to count as a step in the right direction.

"Perhaps you're right," the tactician acknowledged. "But, I think I need to be critical of my own performance considering just how many lives tend to rest on the decisions I make."

Chrom let out a sigh as he walked up to stand next to Robin.

"Sure, but you're also reaching the point where you can hardly believe in yourself or that what you're doing is right," he replied, glancing at Robin out of the corner of his eye. "The Duke said it yesterday, didn't he? Don't keep second-guessing yourself. At some point, you _will_ need to make the hard decisions, and we'll all be trusting in you when those times actually come."

Robin chose to remain silent, something which aggravated Chrom's frustrations if his following groan was any indication.

"Look, Robin, as much as you think you – and we as a whole – could have done more, you also have to look at what we actually _were_ able to do," the prince continued, placing a hand on the tactician's shoulder. "You should know better than anyone that we probably did the maximum we could have given the situation. Getting hung up over the what-ifs won't get you anywhere, and it'll probably just make you do what you're doing right now – doubting yourself for what you perceive as your own shortcomings."

Chrom's hand slid off Robin's shoulder as the prince turned to – presumably – leave and get to his assigned post.

"I'm not asking for an instant change in outlook, don't get the wrong idea. I know these sorts of things take time to sort out," he said. "But… well, it can be difficult to believe in someone who won't believe in himself, you know? You have my trust, you have Emm's, and I'm sure you have most – if not all – of the Shepherds', but not everyone will see you or know you the way we do. They won't try to understand whatever performance anxiety is plaguing you. They'll just see a tactician who can't even trust his own decisions, and who in hindsight thinks everything he did was a mistake and that he could have done better."

Chrom shook his head. "It won't be something that inspires confidence in anyone," the prince continued. "And you, above all, have to inspire confidence in those of us who follow you, or you might eventually reach the point where we can't even trust you. Just… give it some thought. You're better than you think you are, Robin. You just need to find that same belief in your own self that we all have in you."

The prince strode away, cape flapping in the wind. Frederick, surprisingly enough, chose not to utter a single word and instead turned on his heel to follow his liege, his armor clanking with every step.

When Robin was sure he was alone, he let out a deep sigh.

He had to admit that Chrom did have a point. He knew that. Logically, everything the prince said made complete sense, and when he looked at it from an objective standpoint he could see the truth in his words.

Chrom was right when he said that they had done the maximum they could have. This campaign wasn't going to be hailed as a victory for Ylisse, by any stretch of the imagination, but it certainly wouldn't go down in the history books as a defeat, either.

Robin knew that this outcome was as close to a victory as he could have really hoped to achieve given the circumstances and the way events managed to play out: They managed to save Maribelle from execution at the hands of King Gangrel, they evacuated Themis before the Plegian army could so much as even cross the Ylisse-Plegia border and threaten the city, and all the Shepherds were even going to make it back home to Ylisstol.

He really couldn't have asked for anything more than that…

_'__So why do I still feel like I can't simply accept how things turned out…?'_


	11. Chapter Nine - Foreseer of Fate

**Author's Note: I'll keep this short and sweet. Between my laptop breaking down and trying to scrape together the funds to get a replacement... plus rewriting a lot of the lost progress... and in addition my job-hunting and language classes in between... well, let's just say that a lot's happened over the past two months, and it's not helped the update schedule any.**

**I apologize profusely for anyone who might have been disappointed by the long break since the last chapter. This was originally going to detail the entirety of the game's Chapter 6, but as I had a lot of additional content, I have decided to split it into two parts.**

**As per usual, any discussions, thoughts, feedback, questions, and the like can be sent through reviews. Rest assured I will reply soonest (and I'd like to think I'm pretty quick at that!)**

**I'd like to think this chapter came out well, and I hope you also would think it was at least interesting enough to warrant you clicking that review button and letting me know what you think. Cheers, and ****Naga be with you all! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem: Awakening or any characters, concepts, weapons, etc. that are found therein. Anything within this fic but not from the source material are my own creations.**

* * *

_**Chapter Nine – Foreseer of Fate**_

Location: Ylisstol

Robin let out a small, tired sigh as he leaned on a rail, absently watching the people of Themis on the main street below as they filed in through the city gates of Ylisstol.

The march back from Themis had been uneventful, but the three days of travel time had still been a busy affair for the tactician. While he'd had to ensure that he had troops scouting the way forwards and backwards at all times, Robin had in fact spent much of his time going over preliminary plans that he would likely be expected to present at the war council that was undoubtedly going to be called upon their – or, more specifically, the Exalt's – return to Ylisstol.

What little time he had that could be devoted to other pursuits was spent studying the basics of swordplay with Frederick, particularly picking up where they'd left off from before they'd arrived at Themis.

_'__Form I, sometimes referred to as Constantia, the first form of classical swordplay…'_ Robin recited mentally, imagining Frederick's voice blending together with his own. _ 'Known in some circles as 'The Determination Form', Form I is the most basic of all seven forms, and was the style that was created when traditional sword-fighting started to become more institutionalized over a thousand years ago. It retained many elements of the traditional forms of fighting while going on to establish basic concepts such as motions and target zones. Said concepts would go on to become the foundation for every other form, making Form I ideally suited to be an introductory training form for all practitioners of swordplay regardless of the form they would go on to specialize in.'_

Robin chuckled, amused at how he managed to sound almost exactly like Frederick when the big knight had been explaining everything to him.

_'__When in use as an actual style of swordplay, Form I was generally described as wild, simplistic, and raw, relying on deliberate tactics and continuous step-by-step advances that cut off angles of movement before disarming opponents. However, the style fostered an emotionally-heated mindset which resulted in practitioners being tempted to execute their motions with the intent to kill, and thus meant that a great deal of restraint was also required to utilize the form to its fullest extent. Ironically, while the form's philosophy could lead undisciplined practitioners towards delivering killing blows, its motions were aimed towards disarming foes without injuring them. Basic initiates and less adept practitioners in the style tended to demonstrate rather clumsy performance, though a master of the style was also said to demonstrate bladework that was like 'water flowing over the falls' – fluid, highly randomized, and unpredictable.'_

Once Robin managed a firm grasp and understanding of the concepts behind Form I, Frederick had then gone on to have them apply theory to practice in sparring matches – sparring matches that the big knight had assured were completely harmless and devoid of any ulterior motives. Whether that was true or not was an entirely different story, and, after actually running through the gauntlet with Frederick, the tactician was firmly of the belief that the bigger man's assurances couldn't be anything closer from the truth.

Given that Frederick had spared no quarter in their bouts, Robin was quite sure that the phrases the Shepherds' lieutenant used – 'completely harmless' and 'devoid of ulterior motives' – were among the last ones he himself would ever think to use to describe their sparring matches.

_'__Suffice to say I don't remember ever hearing a more blatant lie…'_ Robin thought, hand going up to rub at a slightly sore bruise that he'd incurred when Frederick's training sword had slipped past his sloppy guard and landed a particularly heavy hit on his shoulder. Granted, the brutality of Frederick's lessons was probably going to pay off dividends in the long run as the battlefield during war would be just as brutal if not more so than any of their sparring matches, but the aches and pains he was still feeling all over – and was certain he'd be feeling for a fair bit longer – were reason enough for him to be more than a little disgruntled by the knight's teaching methods.

Of course, while becoming a better fighter was a welcome result of his training with Frederick, Robin was rather disappointed that their activities were doing little to help him recover any of his locked memories. His mind brought up memories of the same lessons being taught to him by a different person – if the voice speaking the words was any indication – and of him performing the same movements which he found his body recognized as familiar even when his mind didn't. A few hazy images accompanied them, but, as with the images he'd seen that night when he attempted to open the sealed portion of his tome, details were unclear enough that he couldn't quite make out any details to go off of.

It was frustrating, but Robin couldn't say he was surprised. It really _was_ rather optimistic to even imagine that he'd recover some of his memories in so convenient a manner, but it wasn't wrong to hope, was it? At the very least, he could say that it wasn't a complete exercise in futility…

_'__If I can improve my skills, then maybe… maybe I can actually be worthy of all the trust being given by…'_

"Robin!"

The sound of someone calling out his name drew Robin from his musings. The tactician turned in the voice's direction, quickly noticing Chrom making his way towards him.

"Ah, Chrom," Robin greeted amicably as the other man walked up. "Good morning."

The prince gave him a nod and a small smile. "Ah, good morning to you, as well," he replied. "I hope Frederick hasn't been too rough on you over the past couple of days."

Robin shrugged easily, almost immediately regretting doing so as a fresh ache pulsed through his shoulders.

"I don't think he knows the meaning of the phrase 'Take it easy', Chrom," he remarked lightly. "I can't say it hasn't produced some results, though, so it's not such a bad thing."

Chrom brightened. "Wait, really?! So you remember–"

"No, I don't remember," Robin quickly replied, watching with some amusement as Chrom quickly found his hopes shot down.

"O-oh…"

Robin gave the prince a reassuring smile. "Don't worry," he replied. "I didn't have any genuine expectations of actually recovering a memory from something like this. It _was_ worth a shot, though, and even without it I'm at least becoming a better fighter."

Chrom sighed. "Yes, but I was hoping you'd have at least found something that you can follow back to your origins, by now…"

The tactician chuckled. "I'm fine with not knowing right now, Chrom," he said. "There are more important things to worry about at the moment."

_'__Besides… I'm not quite sure I _want_ to know, really,'_ Robin thought to himself. _'I have a feeling I'm not going to like the answer if and when I find out.'_

His thoughts wandered towards the the strong feelings of familiarity and déjà vu he'd experienced while at the border, particularly when he and the Plegian mage Aversa had locked eyes.

_'__Could I possibly be… Plegian…?'_

Robin shook his head. _'No, let's not think about that…'_

"Robin? Hello, Ylisse to Robin?"

He turned at the call, finding Chrom looking at him with a half-curious, half-worried expression on his face.

"Hey, is something wrong?" he asked, concern evident in his features. "You've been spacing out a lot, recently…"

The tactician shook his head. "No, nothing's wrong," he said, trying to put a smile on his face so he could quell Chrom's worries. "I've just got a lot on my mind, that's all."

"Ah… that's understandable, I suppose…" the prince said. "You can count on us, you know? Don't think you have to take on everything on your own."

Robin snorted unceremoniously. "Are you seriously offering to help me study and do more paperwork?"

Chrom chuckled in return. "… No, I guess not," he admitted. "Sorry."

Robin shook his head. "Yeah, see? The thought was appreciated, though."

The pair quieted after that, both content to watch as citizens of Themis continued to make their way towards the residential district that would house them.

"… He played you, you know? Gangrel, I mean…" Robin suddenly murmured out of the blue, watching out of the corner of his eye as Chrom's head snapped up to look right at him.

Robin tried not to grimace. _'He needs to hear this, he needs to hear this…'_ the tactician repeated mentally, steeling himself for Chrom's most likely reactions. It wasn't quite the best way to break the rather comfortable silence that had settled between them, but he felt these _were_ things that the prince needed to hear.

"The Mad King might be deserving of his moniker, but he certainly isn't stupid," Robin continued, trying to ignore the look of shocked betrayal on the prince's face. "He knew _exactly_ what he was doing when he brought us all there and backed us into a corner using Maribelle's life as leverage. That he managed to force us to draw first blood was all according to the script he wanted us to play by… and now he can make it appear as if we'd been the ones to open hostilities."

Chrom took a step back. "But… But the Plegians were the ones who attacked first! You saw it yourself! Even the Plegians soldiers would know that we merely retaliated in self-defense!"

Robin snorted mirthlessly. "Ah… but who says that's going to be the story that will be told back in Plegia?" he asked rhetorically. "Imagine the reaction of the Plegian populace, Chrom, when they hear that the son of the hated warmongering Ylissean Exalt – the son of the very same Exalt who waged a bloody crusade across their country fifteen years prior – struck down a Plegian soldier at the negotiations without any prior provocation?"

"But we only fought to protect Emmeryn from them!" Chrom all but roared, the commotion actually attracting the attention of some people – both civilians and soldiers – who were in the pair's vicinity.

Robin glanced meaningfully at the soldiers who'd taken notice before returning his gaze back to Chrom, hoping the prince would understand the gesture.

Thankfully, Chrom understood Robin's gesture and glanced at the soldiers himself, giving them a discreet shake of the head. Understanding that the situation did not necessitate any sort of alarm, the soldiers turned and ushered the civilians away, leaving the two alone.

"It doesn't matter what _actually_ happened, Chrom," Robin said once he was sure no one was within earshot. "What matters to the Plegians – to Gangrel – is what they could make it look like had happened. Besides, the Mad King said it himself, didn't he? His people will not care who started this war. All they will care about is that they can finally take their anger out on the hated Ylisseans… and yours will be the face that the Plegians will direct the vast majority of their hatred towards."

Chrom took a step back, stunned. "I…" he said, holding onto the railings to steady himself. "Gods, you're right, I really did play right into his hands… let myself fall into his provocations…"

He leaned heavily against the railing. "I've completely messed everything up, haven't I?"

"Not _everything_," Robin replied. "The deck was so heavily stacked against us that Gangrel was going to get his war, regardless of what happened. If it wasn't you who killed that man, it would probably have been Duke Themis who might have done so, especially given Maribelle's situation at the time. The only thing that was really achieved by you being the one to do the deed was that you gave the Plegians their most desirable outcome due to your lineage."

Chrom sighed. "That's not going to make me feel much better, Robin."

The tactician gave a sigh of his own. "I'm sorry if I made you feel worse, but you hired me to be a tactician, not a sweet-talker," he replied unflinchingly. "This is the reality of war. Not everyone is going to fight as honorably as you do, Chrom. Deceit, duplicity, and propaganda are just as much weapons of war as Falchion ever was, is, and will be."

"I know, Robin…" the prince said, sighing again. "I know… I just…"

Robin gave Chrom a smile.

"Don't worry, nothing's over and done just yet," the tactician said. "You made a mistake, true, but that doesn't mean you should get hung up over it. You just have to learn from it and move on forward."

Chrom sighed. "If only it were so easy… learning that you've just become the target of an entire nation's hatred isn't an easy thing to accept."

Robin chuckled mirthlessly. "Nothing ever is, Chrom. Nothing ever is."

_'__Especially when we have to fight our own selves…'_

The prince sighed. "If only I'd killed Gangrel right there…" he murmured. "Maybe we could have ended the war before it even began…"

Robin snorted. "That's not going to work out the way you might want it to, Chrom."

Chrom looked back at his tactician. "What makes you say that?"

Said tactician shrugged easily. "Just think about the sentiment currently prevalent in Plegia and the events that led us to the current situation," he replied. "The death of one Plegian soldier was enough for Gangrel to spin a tale of unprovoked Ylissean aggression that incites a call to arms amongst the populace." He raised a hand as Chrom made to say something. "Before you say anything, yes, I know we actually defeated several platoons and a flight of wyvern riders, but the death of that man you killed was still the catalyst for everything else that's happened afterwards."

Chrom's mouth clicked shut, the man wearing a rather disgruntled expression even as he motioned for Robin to continue.

"Now, imagine if we actually managed to kill Gangrel," Robin continued. "We'll have just killed the _king of Plegia_. He might not be universally loved by his people, but he _did_ restore some semblance of order to the nation in the aftermath of the Plegian Crusades. I've read enough of the archived reports on how things have progressed in Plegia over the last fifteen years, and I can tell you that the people most certainly won't forget how Gangrel gave them all their lives back in a similar way to what Emmeryn did for Ylisse. Mad King or not, the people will feel as if they owe him a debt of gratitude they're obliged to repay after what he's done for them."

The tactician smiled tightly. "Kill him, and you've just given whoever will rise up to take his place and fill the power vacuum an _even better martyr_ than the nameless, faceless soldier you struck down. Killing him won't stop all of Plegia from rallying behind his cause; in fact, it might just make things worse. Remember, a person being held up as a symbol of an ideal will always be more powerful in death than in life."

Chrom sighed again. "So, if killing Gangrel isn't an option, how do we go about ending this war?"

Robin's smile found itself tainted with a slight feeling of helplessness.

"I have a couple of ideas, none of which are really acceptable outcomes," he replied.

Chrom glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "In other words…"

"In other words… I really wish I knew," Robin admitted with a rueful chuckle. "To be fair, we _do_ have more immediate problems to deal with."

Chrom sighed again. "I really wish you weren't so right about that."

Robin shrugged. "It's not so bad. Maybe the war councils might point me – us – in the right direction."

_'__Well, I can only hope they do…'_

Somehow, he couldn't help but feel like he'd just jinxed himself by saying that.

* * *

Several days later, Robin could only say that the one thing he'd managed out of the daily war councils has been an ever-growing feeling of frustration.

_'__Why, oh why, did I _ever_ think that the war councils were going to be productive….?'_

The war councils – if they could even really be called that – had been a shambles from the very beginning. The various nobles and advisers who were in attendance had spent more time squabbling amongst themselves or directing barely veiled insults and accusations against him than they had actually trying to come up with a coherent plan of action to respond to the Plegian threat. The plans Robin had presented at the meetings – _'Or tried to, at least,'_ he grumbled mentally – were met with very stiff resistance from the majority of the council, with almost no arguments as to why aside from their suspicions that he was a Plegian spy or sleeper agent.

Robin grimaced at the thought of how he'd been treated by Emmeryn's advisers. He thought he'd done his best to show that he supported the Ylissean cause, and Chrom had vouched for him and defended him at every opportunity; given the attitude of the Ylissean advisers, though, he was quite sure that when it came to him they couldn't care less about any details beyond his supposed Plegian nationality. Even the support of a member of the royal family – the brash and hot-headed prince, at that – had not done much to sway them in that regard.

He was equally certain he'd done well to not let slip how their words were affecting him, but just the same he doubted that many of the Ylissean advisers really cared about the well-being of things and people they felt were below them or were serving as obstacles to their ambitions and self-interests. However, by midday of only the third day, the lack of progress and the ever-growing virulence of the words being sent his way eventually reached a point that spurred Emmeryn into action. Deciding that she'd seen and heard enough, Emmeryn had taken full control of proceedings, stunning her advisers into silence as she expressed her disapproval of their appalling behavior.

While Robin had expected it to stop there, the Exalt had followed her statement of disapproval with an ultimatum for the other council members to at least give actual, logical arguments as to why they refused to go along with the amnesiac tactician's proposed plans, and that she would expect for them to also be able of presenting their own alternatives afterwards.

Had he not actually been reeling from everything that had been thrown his way, Robin might have actually cheered at how easily Emmeryn had cowed her advisers into submission before bringing an end to proceedings for that particular day. However, the fact that the Exalt had been forced to do what she had done was already a bad sign. As things stood, they'd already been stuck in this political and military quagmire for longer than they should have, and the tactician was beginning to grow restless thanks to the inability of the Ylissean war council to actually agree to anything.

_'__Things are already hard enough just having enemies across the border; don't these people recognize the urgency of the situation facing us to actually put aside their own interests?'_

Robin let out a rather despondent sigh at that, wondering what he could do to show he could be trusted to support their cause with all his heart, mind, and skill. So distracted was he by his musings that he hadn't even realized that someone had walked up to his table until a voice cut through the din of his jumbled thoughts processes.

"That was quite the sigh, Tactician Robin."

Robin jolted in surprise, nearly causing a bottle of ink to spill out its contents all over the open books and parchments littering his table. He quickly looked up from the mess that was occupying his table to see Exalt Emmeryn smiling kindly at him, a hand resting on the chair next to his own.

"I apologize for intruding upon your work," she said, eyes glimmering with kind sympathy. "Might I have a few minutes of your time?"

"Oh, Your Grace… o-of course, it's not a bother," Robin quickly replied, glancing at all the maps and open books both tactical and arcane spread out across his table. "Um… Forgive the mess, I…"

Emmeryn smiled as she took a seat next to him. "Worry not about it, my friend," she assured him, watching with a combination of amusement and worry as he tried to bring some form of order to the clutter. "I know this is only because we have to rely so heavily on your expertise to get us through these trying times."

The Exalt sighed, prompting Robin to glance at her out of the corner of his eye as he continued to move parchments and stacks of books.

"If only I could find some way to help you or lighten your load somewhat…"

Robin shrugged lightly. "If I might be so bold, Your Grace…" he started, waiting until he was sure he had Emmeryn's attention before continuing his line of thought. "I doubt any of your military or political advisers would even give me so much as a second glance, let alone actual assistance."

The tactician suddenly lunged to the side, just about stopping a stack of books he'd been moving from toppling over.

"I wouldn't call their attitude a reflection of your leadership, certainly, as you've proven to be anything _but_ racist and bigoted…" he remarked rather easily, setting the stack right before retaking his seat. "… but it _is_ rather worrying that your advisers' treatment of me is largely due to them coming to the conclusion that my amnesia is a fabricated lie to hide my supposed identity as a Plegian sleeper agent or assassin."

He chuckled lightly. "It's even more worrying – and amusing – when you consider that they all believe that narrative mainly because of the obvious Plegian markings on my coat," he said, raising his arms up to show the Exalt the three eyes decorating either sleeve. "Even if I _was_ a Plegian in my past life, I can definitely assure you I'm not a sleeper agent for some fairly obvious reasons."

Emmeryn raised a delicate eyebrow. "Is that so? Please, explain your logic to me."

Robin shrugged easily as he settled back into his chair. "It's fairly simple, Your Grace," he replied. "If Plegia really _has_ planted me here as an assassin or a sleeper agent… would they have made it so obvious?"

He tugged on his sleeves with an easy smile. "Granted, the enemy likely thinks you naïve, Your Grace – and, believe me, if even your own brother can think that of you, it's not a far stretch to imagine your enemies would, too. However, even then, I'm sure any commander worth his rank wouldn't be so blatant. I've already mentioned this to Chrom, but I think it's something that begs repeating: Gangrel isn't stupid. He might be completely insane, yes, but he definitely isn't stupid. That he cornered us at the border is proof of both his competence and lack of sanity."

Emmeryn let out a soft giggle, bringing up a hand to cover her mouth.

"Yes, I suppose my fixation on preserving the peace for the people might lead some to think that of me, wouldn't it?" she remarked rather lightly, genuine mirth twinkling in her grey-green eyes. "I don't particularly mind, though; being seen as naïve _does_ have its advantages."

Robin frowned in thought. _'She… finds other people's perception of her funny…?'_

"How so, Your Grace?"

Emmeryn smiled knowingly. "It is fairly simple, Tactician Robin," she answered, Robin almost hearing the laughter in her voice as she mimicked his earlier response. "I know how everyone perceives me, and I know what sort of behavior and reaction they expect to see from me. Playing to that narrative can make everyone around me more predictable and much easier to deal with. I'm sure you understand where I am coming from, yes?"

Robin had been about to agree easily enough, even preparing to cite a passage about deception from a famed tactician of eras past. Before he could open his mouth, however, the full weight of Emmeryn's words registered in his mind and stopped him dead in his tracks.

_'__Wait, hold on… 'Predictable? Easier to deal with?'_

Wide-eyed, he looked at Emmeryn, who calmly returned his gaze with kind eyes and a knowing smile.

_'__So, all this time, the Exalt's been…'_

Robin mentally cursed his own foolishness. He'd done it again – he'd grossly underestimated another person's depth of character, and merely taken what he knew of the Exalt as the whole story. That was as grave a sin as anyone in his profession could ever hope to do, especially when lives hung in the balance with every decision that he had to make.

"Your Grace…" he ventured, speaking slowly as he tried to bring order to his suddenly disorganized thoughts. "Are you trying to say… that you've actually just been following a script, in a sense…?"

Emmeryn laughed – _actually laughed_ – at the tactician's question.

"Yes and no," she replied easily, mirth dancing in her eyes. "One does not rule Ylisse for fifteen years without learning how to deal with foes and supposed allies, my friend. Someday, you too will also come to realize that it is sometimes easier to act as you need to if you normally play to an idea that those who would seek to obstruct your path would have in their mind – in my case, that my pacifist tendencies also mean I am possessed of a naiveté that has not gone even after a decade and a half of rule."

She gave him a meaningful, knowing glance. "However, you should not mistake my intentions as false just because I have not been… completely forthcoming with you, Tactician Robin. It was – and still is – certainly no lie when I said that my people's safety and happiness will always come first. They are my treasures, more valuable to me than any amount of wealth or prestige that the throne may offer."

Robin nearly choked. That wasn't–!

"No, that's…" he stammered. "I didn't mean…"

Emmeryn smiled softly. "You say that you didn't mean to imply that, but I saw the flash of doubt in your eyes," she commented. "You're suddenly wary, and your eyes are now reassessing me in light of what I've just told you."

Robin's hands clenched into fists as he looked away, shame twisting his features. "Your Grace, I…"

"Do not be ashamed; I hold nothing against you for having such a natural reaction," Emmeryn assured the tactician, her voice soft and gentle. "I actually would have been more surprised – and a tad bit worried – if you simply accepted what I've told you without question. Of course, I also realize that this may not have been the best time for this particular revelation given the situation currently facing us… It may prove to be a distraction you definitely do not need at this critical juncture."

Robin looked up curiously. "And yet you decided to push through, anyway," he remarked. "Why tell me this now, then, if you felt that it might prove a distraction? I assure you it won't, but my curiosity is piqued, nonetheless."

Emmeryn smiled lightly. "Because, Tactician Robin, I need you to know that I truly _do_ believe in you without reservation," she replied. "I said as much back in Themis, did I not? You've proven to me time and time again that you are worthy of my total confidence, as much as you try to convince us – or yourself – otherwise."

Robin's jaw dropped. _'Excuse me?!'_

"Your Grace, _surely_ there are a million other candidates who are more deserving of it than I am," he protested immediately. "Never mind the rather… unique approach you chose to take, but still…!"

Emmeryn chuckled. "You see? You're doing it again," she said, prompting Robin's mouth to snap shut rather abruptly. "I do not claim to know why it is that you feel you cannot receive any sort of trust; however, your lack of confidence in yourself and in your own abilities is completely inconsistent with how you act in your capacity as tactician of the Shepherds."

She smiled gently. "Things are not as complicated or unbelievable as you might think, my friend… All you should do is give us a chance – give _yourself_ a chance."

Robin looked away. "You say that, but… I'm nowhere near as composed as I seem to be, Your Grace," he said ruefully. "It's just that everyone in the Shepherds looks to me for leadership and guidance when on the battlefield, so I have to hide my own doubts and misgivings while on the field. Otherwise… everyone's morale will suffer, my orders could be questioned, and the hesitation could lead to an otherwise avoidable tragedy."

He clenched a fist. "… I can't let that happen. I don't think I could live with myself if I did."

Emmeryn shook her head. "You are not the only one who has to carry such a burden."

The tactician's eyes snapped back to the Exalt, who now carried a sad smile on her features.

"From the moment I took on the mantle I wear to this day, I ceased to simply be the ten-year-old crown princess," she explained as she looked away. "I couldn't afford to be seen as weak or inexperienced… not in those difficult times when so many of my people were desperate and hungry. They were looking to me for guidance and hope for a better tomorrow, neither of which my late father could not give them even when they needed it most."

Emmeryn's sad eyes stared emptily into space, and to Robin it appeared as if every painful memory from those years of pain and hardship was flashing before the Exalt's eyes. The tactician frowned at the desolate expression currently etched onto the Exalt's fair features, and he realized then that the burden she carried was one that he could not even begin to understand or comprehend.

Robin felt a sudden pang of sympathy beat painfully in his heart for the Exalt.

_'__She's had to face too much… far too much…'_

The tactician heard Emmeryn sigh, and he pushed his thoughts aside to focus on her words.

"As unbelievable as it may sound…" she continued. "There were – and there still are – many moments when I felt as if the weight of my people's hopes and expectations were too much of a burden to carry." Robin felt another pang as he watched the Exalt's normally-gentle smile morph with bitterness. "I question myself just as much as you do now, and it is in those moments of weakness and self-doubt when the constant temptation to turn to my siblings for help speaks strongest in my mind."

Robin frowned in confusion. "But… why haven't you done that, though? Ask your siblings for help, I mean," he asked. "Surely Chrom and Lissa would do all that they could to help you if you so much as asked…"

Emmeryn sighed again. "Doing that would defeat the purpose of all that I do," she replied simply.

"The… purpose…?" Robin parroted, definitely quite confused by Emmeryn's thought processes.

"Ah… forgive me," Emmeryn said, a hint of embarrassment present in her expression as she colored ever so slightly. "I just had to remind myself that I'm not actually talking to Phila. I… don't usually speak so freely with anyone else aside from her."

_'__Clearly you don't, or I might have heard about all the things you've told me about before now…'_ Robin thought, still trying to come to grips with this side of Emmeryn that she'd deigned to show him.

Emmeryn cleared her throat. "M-moving on…" she said, trying not to stumble over her words as she reigned in her embarrassment. "As much as people try to place me on a pedestal, you must remember that I _am_ still human like everyone else."

"I would think that I'd actually be very hard-pressed to find evidence that you _aren't_ human, Your Grace," Robin quipped dryly. "And if I did, I would think it would actually be some sort of state secret that would see me sworn to secrecy or sent straight off to the gallows."

The Exalt smiled at Robin's wit. "Perhaps, but I fear many do not quite see things the same way you do," she replied. "That includes people not realizing that I have my own personal motivations for what I do."

Robin nodded. "Yes, you mentioned as such earlier. I'm not going to lie, I'm still very curious what you meant by having your own motivations and purposes for what you do."

Emmeryn's lips curved up in a smile that reached her grey-green eyes. "Do not let your imagination run wild, my friend," she said. "It is not something quite so out of the ordinary or out of line with the rest of my way of thinking."

"Pardon me for saying this, Your Grace, but your selflessness, pacifistic tendencies, and unwavering desire for peace are already just a tiny bit out of the ordinary in this day and age, anyways."

The Exalt raised a dainty hand to her mouth, stifling the growing urge to laugh at the snow-haired tactician's amusingly blunt remark.

"That sounds rather like something Chrom would say, Tactician Robin," she remarked, eyes twinkling with mirth. "He has never been quite one to mince words or hold himself back should he feel the need to speak his mind. Perhaps his habits and tendencies have begun to influence you?"

Robin smiled wryly. "You'll forgive me if I feel like I'm not sure whether that's supposed to be a good thing or not."

Emmeryn laughed softly. "At the very least, I am glad he was able to break free of the mould I was raised to conform to," she said, shoulders still shaking with amusement long after her laughter had subsided. "After all, the very core of my motivations for everything I have done and continue to do as Exalt is a desire for Chrom and Lissa to never have to be burdened with matters pertaining to the crown."

Robin found himself none too surprised by the Exalt's rather selfless motivations. In fact, he was more surprised that he even so much as _considered_ the thought that she was capable of any other kind of personal motivation other than one that would benefit those she cared for on a personal level.

_'__Heh… even in her supposed selfishness Exalt Emmeryn still manages to be utterly selfless,'_ he thought, giving a minute shake of the head as he acknowledged his own foolishness. _'Could I really have expected anything else from someone like her?'_

"Hmm?" Emmeryn hummed. "Is something the matter, Tactician Robin?"

The tactician chuckled. "Nothing of your own doing, Your Grace," he replied. "I was just acknowledging that you were right when you said it wasn't quite out of the ordinary… and that I was quite the fool for even considering anything other than something that would be for those you loved as a motivation for why you do what you do."

Emmeryn smiled. "Well… that certainly isn't to say that my love for my people isn't genuine," she replied. "However, it has become a very personal mission of mine to do all I can to ensure Chrom and Lissa do not have to be shackled by titles or any number of responsibilities that came with simply being born into our bloodline. If I could do that… then it would make all the hardships I have had to endure worth the struggle… but, I…"

She trailed off, leaving whatever it was she'd been about to say unsaid. Robin at first thought the Exalt had simply paused to gather her thoughts, but the sight of her trembling lower lip and shaking hands quickly made him realize that she was worse off than he – and likely anyone else bar maybe Phila – had possibly imagined.

Robin clenched a fist. _'Gods, I can't let you of all people punish yourself like this… not you, Emmeryn…'_

He swallowed. "Your Grace…" he ventured slowly, hoping against hope that he could slowly edge the conversation – and the Exalt's thoughts – away from treacherous territory.

Emmeryn raised her head to look at him with eyes glistening with unshed tears. Her gaze was filled with unstated emotions, but the curiosity still present in them gave Robin hope that he could steer her thoughts back in a different direction.

"You… realized at some point that you couldn't carry it all on your own… didn't you…?" Robin supplied softly. "That the burden of being Exalt was too heavy for you to handle on your own…"

Emmeryn nodded. "Yes…" she agreed, her voice just as soft as his own. "I, in all of my foolish youth, thought that I could lead Ylisse and at the same time keep my siblings from having to get their hands and feet dirtied by the political arena that I knew I would have to master sooner rather than later… by the political arena that was to become my own personal battleground…"

Robin gave the Exalt what he hoped was a look of kind sympathy. "And, it was that same realization that made you fear you wouldn't be able to keep Chrom and Lissa away from the life that you were so desperately trying to shield them from in the first place."

Another soft nod came from Emmeryn. "I was blinded by my idealism, unable to truly see or comprehend the harsh realities that awaited me once I took up the mantle," she said, her lips twisting in a sad smile shot through with bitterness and self-loathing. "The aftermath of my father's crusades showed me that ideals alone would not save my people from their grief or suffering, Tactician Robin."

"But you _did_ save them, didn't you…?" Robin asked. "Everyone tells me-"

Emmeryn shook her head. "What other people tell you is only that which they themselves want to see and believe," she replied sharply, cutting the tactician off.

Robin frowned heavily. "What… they want to see and believe…?" he parroted softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

The Exalt chuckled hollowly. "You shouldn't sound so surprised, my friend," she continued. "King Gangrel _was_ right, to an extent, when he described Ylisse – _my_ Ylisse – as a haven of hypocrisy. I, even with all the good intentions in the world, could not end my people's suffering on my own. As much as Chrom and many of my people will tell you otherwise, I am certainly no miracle worker who single-handedly brought peace back to the Halidom and its people. I needed the help of so many others simply to mend the wounds of our battered nation."

Robin's eyes suddenly widened in realization as he began to notice parallels between the situation facing Emmeryn then and the situation facing them now.

_'__Just as she needs the help of so many others to protect her nation from outside threats… but, that means she's…'_

He shook his thoughts aside, focusing on the Exalt as she continued to speak.

"Sadly, it appears that the sacrifices of all those others who were there to stand with me went forgotten…" Emmeryn murmured. "They only remembered the young girl who rose to the throne after her father's demise and bravely faced her angry and disillusioned people. The belief that it was by my hands that peace returned to the Halidom, I fear, has left me more alienated from my people than ever before." She smiled bitterly. "The wise man who once said 'It is lonely at the top' was certainly not incorrect in saying that."

Robin's mind was racing as he took in all of the Exalt's words, the pieces surrounding her constant shows of faith finally falling into place and making everything about her rather puzzling behavior begin to make a great deal more sense.

It wasn't so much that she was naively placing her faith and trust in him, a tactician of unknown origins and questionable circumstances. While she was indeed choosing to trust him, that she was doing so blindly and out of nothing but the goodness of her heart couldn't have been further from the truth.

No, that wasn't the case at all. The decision to trust him was definitely a conscious decision that the Exalt had made only after much consideration on her part.

Emmeryn had chosen to ignore whatever stories, conspiracy theories, and labels that were being attributed to Robin by those around her, and decided that she'd see his actions and hear his words with her own eyes and ears before deciding for herself if he was the potential threat others were saying he was… or a potential ally that could be trusted and counted on in the days and weeks to come.

_'__And, if everything she's said and done up till now are any indication…'_

Robin closed his eyes and smiled bitterly. _'Even with my lack of a past, she still…'_

He chuckled. Maybe everything really _was_ simpler than he was making it out to be, just as she'd said just moments before.

"… You aren't alone, Your Grace," Robin murmured. "Even one of your position will not be alone…"

He opened his hazel eyes and fixed a resolute gaze at the Exalt. "Not if I can help it."

Emmeryn's eyes widened. "Tactician Robin…!"

Robin swallowed against the rising lump in his throat as looked his liege in the eye.

"I… after hearing everything you've said, I now know that I want to help you," the tactician said, straightening. "Your dream, Exalt… I want to help you realize it."

Emmeryn's mouth fell open ever so slightly, her still-glistening eyes betraying her surprise.

"Tactician Robin…"

The tactician looked away. "I think…" he said, pausing to gather his thoughts. "I think I understand what you mean when you say no one can do it alone… I'm sure it applies to me, as well, even if the scopes of our responsibilities couldn't ever hope to be compared."

Emmeryn shook her head sadly. "You say you understand, and yet you continue to keep us all at arm's length."

"I know, but…" he murmured, running a hand through his hair. "I'm scared, Your Grace… scared of what I might find or become should I ever regain my memories. I'm scared of what might happen to you all should I discover I'm something or someone who can't stand alongside you all as a friend and ally…"

Robin nearly jolted as he felt a pair of hands softly encircle his own and gently bring it down from his head, making him turn back to face Emmeryn.

His eyes met the Exalt's, her grey-green eyes overflowing with kindness. "Fear of the unknown is a natural thing, Robin," she said, her voice soothing his frayed nerves and frantic mind. "It is fine to be afraid, but you should not let your fears of who you once were or what you might be rule you and influence everything you do."

Robin blinked, his mouth falling open in awe at her words. "Exalt…" he whispered.

Emmeryn shook her head. "You are you," she said, fixing him with a gentle smile. "There may come a time when you find out that you were someone else before you lost your memories… but that will be a consideration for then, not now. You should not let yourself be shackled by the chains of possibility – of a terrible past that may or may not even exist. Allow yourself to live in the present, and walk with those around you – walk with _me_ – to build a future you can be proud of."

Robin nodded, allowing himself to consider her words for a brief moment.

_'__She's right… as always, really,'_ he thought, chuckling softly to himself. _'I guess the real fool here was me, after all…'_

"Thank you, Your Grace…" he said quietly. "I know it won't even come close to repaying the debts I owe you… but I promise you: I won't let you down."

For the sake of the people who in their unending kindness took him in when he had nothing, doing all that he could to protect their precious home and their people was the least he could do.

Emmeryn smiled, and to Robin it almost looked as if she knew exactly what was going through his mind at that very moment.

"I know you won't, my friend," she said simply.

* * *

Robin sighed as he wandered through the halls of the Exalt's Palace, searching for a place where he could sit down, relax – or try to, anyway – take everything in and sort through his thoughts.

Thankfully, the conversation with Emmeryn had drifted off towards much more comfortable topics after their rather heavy emotional exchange, with the Exalt posting a few questions about their possible courses of action going forward. Granted, Robin _had_ been contemplating about where they could go from here ever since they'd left Themis, but coming up with a solution to the problem at hand hadn't been the easiest thing in the world.

He'd been very much ashamed to admit as much, but the Exalt had been quick and firm in her assurance that this was exactly the kind of situation where coming up with a viable solution would require everyone working together rather than one person trying to solve the problem on his or her own.

Emmeryn had gone on to gently scold Robin for feeling as if he had to solve everything on his own, reminding him that trying to do too much too quickly would only lead him to the sort of helplessness she herself had felt when she'd first taken the Ylissean throne.

"Sometimes it is better simply to focus on what is in front of us," she had said. "Start small, with what we can do, then work our way upwards to the larger problems together."

_'__In my case, I guess that means I just have to keep doing what I'm doing as the Shepherds' tactician, and hope that my tactics are enough to get us all through this predicament until someone can figure out a long-term solution…'_

Robin sighed as his thoughts wandered once again to that question he'd been trying to answer for days on end: How _do_ they go about ending this war without an enormous loss of human life…?

The tactician was stopped from considering that question too extensively, however, by the sounds of rapid footsteps and someone calling out his name.

"Robin! Robin, wait up!"

The tactician stopped and turned just in time to see one Princess Lissa running up to him as fast as she possibly could.

"Lissa…?" he murmured as the blonde princess came to a halt and bent over just a few paces from him, placing her hands on her knees as she greedily sucked in as much air as she could to get her breathing under control.

Robin looked back behind the princess, confirming what he thought: there weren't any side exits from where he stood near one end of the hallway all the way to the other end where Lissa had come from.

_'__Did she really run from all the way over there? Good grief.'_

He blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. "So, what's wrong? Did something happen?" he asked, genuinely curious as to what was so urgent she would even run from one end of the hallway to the other just to catch up to him.

Lissa straightened and shook her head. "No, but… well, have you seen my brother?"

Robin frowned. "Chrom? No, actually. I haven't seen him since the war council was adjourned hours ago."

_'__Why would you be looking for him, though? Does that mean he hasn't retired to their chambers yet?'_

The princess sighed. "Ugh, I knew it…" she mumbled. "Knowing him, he's probably spent the hours since with Frederick and Duke Themis trying to work something out to aid the war effort."

Robin snickered. "I wouldn't be surprised by that. He always seems to try too hard at everything he does."

Lissa giggled. "Well, that's Chrom for you," she agreed. "Always rushing into things full speed, even if he really shouldn't be doing so."

Robin this time erupted into laughter. "I guess it's a good thing he hired me, then!"

Lissa's laughter joined his own, the sounds of their mirth bringing some semblance of cheer to the empty hallway. It was a rather good thing that there was no one else around, or they might have been wondering what their princess and tactician were doing making such a commotion all on their own.

"So…" Robin ventured once their mirth had died down. "Why _are_ you looking for Chrom, if you don't mind my asking?"

Lissa's features took on a thoughtful expression as she considered the question for a brief moment before lighting up in apparent recollection.

"Oh! I was actually going to give something to him, but…" she said as she reached into the bag slung across her body, rummaging about for something.

After a few moments of searching, the princess' hand withdrew from the bag with a small pouch, which she held out to Robin.

"If it isn't too much to ask, could you give this to Chrom if you find him?" she asked. "I'd look for him myself, but I still have some things to take care of at the healer's wing."

Robin took the pouch and held it up before his face, tilting his head curiously as he gave it a shake or two to try and discern its contents.

"I don't really mind. I was going out to look for him anyways," he murmured, giving the pouch another shake. "…What's in this thing, anyway?"

Lissa gave a small smile. "Just a little treat from me," she quipped, her expression quickly dropping afterwards. "… He's probably been working too hard, and I bet he's even been skipping meals…"

"And so you wanted to give him a little something to pick his spirits up, right?" Robin asked.

Lissa nodded, prompting a smile from Robin.

"Hah… that's quite thoughtful of you," he remarked as he placed the pouch in a pocket within his coat. "Adorably so, in fact."

The blonde princess flushed an embarrassed pink. "H-hey, it's all I can do for him right now," she stammered out. "Don't make fun of a little sister who just wants to make sure her big brother isn't starving himself out. That's an order from the Princess of Ylisse, Mister!"

"Yes, yes, I understand," Robin replied. "I'll be sure these get to him…"

He grinned. "… Princess."

Lissa made an utterly _adorable_ sound of protest at the title, eliciting light-hearted laughter from the snow-haired tactician.

"Sorry, sorry. It was too easy," Robin said, trying and failing miserably to stop a grin from forming on his lips. "Just consider it payback for dropping that frog down my coat the other day!"

He turned and, with a wave, took off at a slow job. "Don't worry, I'll be sure to give Chrom your little present!" he called back. "Later… Princess!"

Lissa's cry of mock indignation had Robin laughing all the way down the hallway as he took off in search of the Prince of Ylisse.

Several minutes later, Robin was beginning to wonder just where in the name of Naga Chrom might have gone to.

_'__Lissa probably hasn't seen him since breakfast this morning based on how her words sounded,'_ Robin thought to himself._ 'So I doubt he's been anywhere near the healer's wing. He wasn't in the garrison wing or the Shepherds' garrison, nor was he in the armory…'_

The tactician frowned, examining what few possibilities remained where he imagined the Prince might be. _'He isn't the academic type, so the library's most certainly out of the question,'_ he surmised as he descended a flight of stairs and made his way towards the castle gardens._ 'Could he have gone back to the war room, though…? Hmm… that might be the place to check if he's not in the gardens or at the training grounds.'_

"Damn it, Chrom, where _are_ you…?" Robin murmured as he turned a corner and exited out onto the open air hallways that ran along the castle's sprawling outer garden complex. Unlike during the day, both the hallways and gardens were devoid of activity, the servants and gardeners all having retired to their quarters for the night and leaving the tactician with no one he could really ask about the prince's whereabouts.

_'__Running into someone helpful would be more than welcome right about now…'_

As luck would have it, Robin chanced upon a pair of palace guards on patrol, who quickly pointed him in the direction of the eastern gardens near the royal apartment wing. Thanking them for their help, the tactician hurried past them and headed towards the wing of the palace where the members of the royal family took up residence.

Thankfully, Robin had no need to even try to request entry from the guards who he assumed would be present; the prince stood alone in the gardens that surrounded the apartment complex, staring up into the sky with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Chrom…?" he called out hesitantly, just in case the prince reacted negatively to having his thoughts interrupted.

The blue-haired man gave no sign he'd heard Robin in spite of the tactician's rather close proximity, simply sighing to himself as his eyes continued to gaze into the far-off, distant lights that dotted the night sky.

Robin frowned. _'What is _up_ with you? You've been having these moments ever since that border battle.'_

"Chrom?" he tried calling out again, his voice much louder this time.

The prince started, turning to face the source of the call with a rather dazed expression on his features.

"Mm?" he mumbled. "Oh, hi, Robin."

Robin's frown deepened as he approached the blue-haired man. "Hey, don't 'Hi, Robin' me like nothing's wrong," he said. "It's late. What are you doing out here all alone?"

Chrom sighed again, this one even deeper than the last. "Just… dueling with some unpleasant thoughts, really."

Robin nodded, remembering Emmeryn's words from their conversation earlier. _"King Gangrel _was_ right, to an extent, when he described Ylisse as a haven of hypocrisy."_

_'__It… sounds like that encounter with Gangrel got to him…'_ he thought.

"Well, here," the tactician said, retrieving Lissa's small pouch from his coat before gently tossing it at the prince. "Lissa asked me to give it to you; something about a reward for working yourself to the bone and not really getting any thanks or recognition for it."

Chrom, surprised expression and all, caught the pouch and gazed at it curiously for a moment before opening it up.

"Oh…"

Robin raised an eyebrow as he walked up to the prince and peered into the pouch, eager to see just what Lissa had used him as a deliveryman for.

"… Candies?" he asked rather incredulously, leaning back to give Chrom some space as he retrieved a piece and held it up in front of his face.

Chrom chuckled. "Lissa doesn't look it, but she's pretty good in the kitchen," he said before popping the piece into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

Robin crossed his arms. "You'll forgive me if I'm rather dubious, given her general attitude towards anything that can be used to describe her as feminine or delicate."

Swallowing the treat, the prince held the pouch out. "Feel free to try one out," he said. "I can guarantee you won't be disappointed."

"I'll pass, thanks."

Chrom shrugged. "Suit yourself. Just means more for me, then."

A comfortable silence descended on the pair, broken only by the occasional gust of wind and the sound of Chrom's sedate eating.

Robin took the opportunity to take discreet glances at Chrom when he was sure the prince was distracted by his thoughts or the sugary treats Lissa had gifted him.

The other man did _not_ look well; dark rings had formed under his tired blue eyes, and the man's skin had grown just that little bit pallid and sallow.

Robin frowned. "Hey, have you been sleeping well, if at all?"

Chrom shrugged. "I've slept when able," he replied noncommittally.

_'__In other words, not at all.'_

"Well… make sure to rest when you can," Robin advised. "It wouldn't do anyone any good if you collapse from exhaustion one day, especially if we're out on the field."

Chrom grunted in reply, and to Robin that was as much a reply as it was a dismissal of the topic.

Running a hand through his hair in frustration, the tactician chose to hold his tongue rather than risk stressing Chrom further with repeated queries as to his well-being. Another silence descended on the pair, this one just a tad bit uncomfortable as it was unbroken by any other sounds; even the wind had suddenly grown still as if sensing the awkward tension between the two men.

However, before Robin could figure out a way to open a conversation with Chrom, the prince chose to break the silence himself.

"… You know… not everything Gangrel said was a lie."

Robin glanced at Chrom, tilting his head in question even though he had an inkling that most of what the prince was about to say was going to be similar to what he'd heard from Emmeryn earlier today.

"He may be mad, as you've said, but he's certainly no historical revisionist," the prince explained. "The previous Exalt, my father, waged war on Plegia for many years, as you've no doubt heard many times already. The violence it brought about…"

Chrom looked away, grimacing, and Robin wondered if he wasn't seeing memories from a time he'd rather forget. It almost made the tactician glad that he had no memories aside from those he'd made since being found in that field.

The prince swallowed audibly before turning his gaze skyward once more. "Well, let's just say it was a brutal campaign, one that only came to a close with his death fifteen years ago."

Understanding dawned on the tactician. "The war only ended because its main proponent was no longer alive to keep it going…"

Chrom nodded. "That's right. The Plegian people rightfully remember the suffering they had to endure because of my father, but what he failed to realize was that his crusade was no kinder to his own people." He shook his head, almost as if he were trying to shake away images that only he could see. "As the war dragged on and the fighting intensified, the only thing Father really had to show for it was a rising body count on both sides. Our army became more and more diminished by the day, and at some point it became apparent that Ylisse didn't have the soldiers needed to sustain the campaign."

Chrom paused, and Robin could visibly see the prince struggling with his words. It took the other man several moments before he could so much as look the tactician in the eye, a haunted expression on his features.

"… That was the point when he began conscripting the common folk…" Chrom whispered. "Farmhands who could barely wield their pitchforks out in the fields were being sent off to die in a war they had no real stake in. Without young, able-bodied men to work in the fields, Ylisse no longer had the means to continue producing enough food to feed its populace. Before anyone knew it, famine struck Ylisse, and that led to a near-total collapse of the Halidom. There was widespread hunger… the people were desperate, angry…"

His hand tightened into a shaky fist. "I was still far too young to remember most of what went on during those dark days… but I can remember as clearly as if it was just yesterday how it all affected Emmeryn."

Robin frowned. _'Is this what Emmeryn meant when she said that she tried her best to shield Chrom and Lissa…?'_

"The emotional burden resulting from such an experience would undoubtedly change anyone, _especially_ a child who still had so much growing up to do," he said. "Even if the Exalt was mature beyond what her ten years would have suggested, she was _still_ only a ten-year-old girl. Being forced to grow up so quickly so she could cope with such a difficult situation will not have left many positive effects on her."

_'__And to think I only have hints of how badly affected she was by everything…'_ Robin surmised internally as his thoughts traveled back to the conversation he shared with Emmeryn earlier today. _'The weight of just the Shepherds' lives and the troops under their jurisdiction already feels like such a heavy burden… I can only imagine how much worse off the Exalt was…'_

Chrom nodded. "Indeed," he agreed, unaware of the thoughts running through his tactician's mind. "When our father died in the middle of one of his campaigns, some few months before Emm's tenth birthday, he left her with quite the legacy: a broken Ylisse… a Plegia hungry with a desire for vengeance… the rage of our own people who suffered for so long while the previous Exalt bled them dry for his war…"

The prince shook his head sadly. "I still remember to this day how she bore so much hate; she was such an easy target just because she was our father's daughter…" he lamented. "Ylisseans and Plegians alike needed someone to become the focus of all their anger and grief… and Emm was it… Her own subjects hurled insults her way, laid all the sins of our father square at her feet…"

Chrom turned to face Robin. "Some even threw _stones_ at her when she went out to see them, Robin!" he all but shouted, his expression suddenly furious. "She still bears the scars!"

Robin took a step back in shock. _'She… she was… stoned…?' _he thought, eyes wide. _'Oh, gods… Emmeryn, you…'_

Seeing the shocked look on Robin's features seemed to snap Chrom out of his rage, as the prince's manic burst of rage-filled energy left him just as quickly as he'd allowed his temper to get the better of him.

"… It wasn't fair, Robin… she hid her pain from everyone…" the prince whispered. "She never let anyone see her true feelings; only Lissa and I understood her suffering…"

Robin averted his gaze, Chrom's words bringing to the fore the memory of Emmeryn's words from earlier today. _"The belief that it was by my hands that peace returned to the Halidom, I fear, has left me more alienated from my people than ever before. The wise man who once said 'It is lonely at the top' was certainly not incorrect in saying that."_

'… _Did you really, Chrom…?'_ he thought sadly._ 'Did you really understand her, though…?'_

Chrom sighed, signaling a temporary end to Robin's thoughts as the tactician turned his attention back to the prince.

"I cannot claim to know how Emm does it, Robin," Chrom said. "I could never greet such hostility with warmth and patience like she does. When our people mocked and vilified her, she chose to reach out to them. She repaid insults and mockery with love and kindness. She ended hostilities… she ended the mad war that our father started… she brought home the surviving soldiers and reunited families…"

Chrom's fists tightened once again. "And… when Ylisse's spirit was mended and the people 'forgave' her?" he asked rhetorically. "...She never resented them for it, even when she had every right to bear ill thoughts or feelings over how she was treated."

The prince looked at Robin. "Emm represents the best of the Halidom – the part most worth protecting," he declared confidently. "She _is_ peace – she is as close to a human personification of it that I can think of… And yet some men would choose to try and take advantage of her unending kindness – men like King Gangrel."

He shook his head fiercely. "The day a man like him understands the idea of peace will be the day death gives it to him" Chrom ground out. "Perhaps this is the sort of situation where I must be death's agent… Emmeryn would never order him killed, nor would I wish her to… and so perhaps it is simply better if I bear that particular burden."

"Very well said, Sire."

The voice instantly had Chrom on edge, the prince's hand going for the sheathed sword at his hip as his eyes surveyed the surrounding area.

Robin, however, was less agitated, having recognized the voice instantly.

_'__Lucina…?'_

"Who goes there?" the prince called out. "Show yourself!"

A pause, before the voice – and it was definitely Lucina's voice, just in that deeper false tone she affected when in her 'Marth' guise – spoke again.

"Peace, Sire," Lucina said as she emerged from behind the bushes, wearing her mask as Robin had expected her to. "I bear no ill will."

Chrom visibly relaxed. "You… Marth…?"

The masked swordswoman nodded as she stepped into full view beneath the light of the moon.

"Good evening to you," she greeted, her tone light enough that one would think she hadn't just appeared almost entirely out of nowhere.

Even as Lucina greeted them, though, Robin for some reason felt as if the masked swordswoman was shooting quick glances in his direction for the smallest of moments – or, at least that was what he thought she was doing; it was hard to tell with the mask obscuring the top half of her face.

That was why the tactician found himself very surprised when Lucina did indeed give him a minute nod of acknowledgement, the movement of her head just enough for him to pick up on it before the moment had come and gone.

Robin wanted to give the gesture some thought – was it one of simple acknowledgement…? Or was there something else to it? – but Chrom, it seems, wasn't about to give him the time of day to ponder on it.

"Before anything else, Marth… how in Naga's name did you even get in here?" the prince asked.

_'__That's a pretty good question to ask, all things considered,'_ Robin thought to himself. _'I don't recall anyone making mention of Lucina to the castle guards, and so I doubt an unknown masked swordsman would have been allowed through the gates… not at this hour, and especially not when Ylisse is preparing for a war.'_

Robin almost thought he saw a smirk twist Lucina's lips.

"The cleft in the castle wall, behind the maple grove," she replied, giving a nod with her head towards the offending vegetation off at the far end of the garden. "It was all a matter of ensuring I wasn't seen after that. I was lucky enough that your tactician was focused enough on looking for you that he didn't notice me tailing him the whole time."

_'__Wait, she _what_?!'_ Robin wanted to yell. _'But… how… she…'_

Chrom, on the other hand, reeled back as if he'd just been struck across the face, eyes wide as they darted between her and the offending grove she'd indicated earlier.

"There?! But… how would you…" the prince breathed out. A hand went to his forehead as he groaned in frustration.

Robin glanced at Chrom. "You know what she's talking about?"

Chrom laughed nervously. "Know it? I'm the cause of it," he replied. "I bashed in a part of the wall while I was training with the Shepherds one day. It wasn't very big, and I thought we'd done a good job concealing it, but…"

"You… bashed a stone wall in?" Robin asked incredulously, eyebrows raised in surprise.

Chrom smiled sheepishly. "Yes, I did," he replied, before his lips turned downwards. "Though that really makes me wonder, Marth… How do you know about that hole in the wall?"

Lucina shook her head. "That is unimportant, and your secret is safe with me, regardless, Sire," she replied gravely. "I came here to warn you."

Robin suddenly straightened, his prior exhaustion forgotten. "Warn us…?" he asked, voice low.

"Mm, that is correct," Lucina affirmed. "The Exalt… her life is in grave danger."

Chrom's brows furrowed. "Emmeryn? That's absurd!" he exclaimed. "She's under heavy guard at all hours of the day! There's no way anyone could get to her!"

Lucina calmly regarded Chrom for a moment, and to Robin it almost looked as if she were assessing the prince from head to toe, before she looked away and bit her lip.

"What if…" she ventured carefully, her obvious care in choosing words prompting a frown from the tactician.

_'__Huh… strange,' _he thought. _'Why does she seem so… hesitant, all of a sudden?'_

Robin watched as Lucina took a deep breath, inaudible and unnoticeable save for the rise and fall of her chest and shoulders, before she turned to face them head-on once more.

"What if I told you that I've seen the future?" she asked quietly, her words stunning the two men into shocked silence. "Would you believe me?"

Robin blinked, his mind taking several seconds to process the girl's question due to its sheer absurdity.

_'__W-what…? What in blazes are you talking about?!'_

If Lucina sensed the disbelief coursing through him and through Chrom, she certainly was doing a magnificent job at pretending she didn't notice.

"I've seen a future where Emmeryn is killed," she continued. "Here. Tonight."

Robin frowned, ready to dispute her bizarre claim, but it was Chrom who beat him to the punch.

"Seen the future?" he asked dubiously, his tone of voice reflecting Robin's own thoughts on the matter. "Have you lost your mind?"

Lucina sighed in clear resignation. "No, but I also expected you wouldn't believe me," she replied. "So… allow me to show you the truth in my words!"

Robin's eyes widened as Lucina drew her sword – the Falchion doppelganger – from its sheath and leveled it at Chrom.

_'__Lucina… what are you–?!'_

* * *

The looks of shocked betrayal on both Robin and Chrom's faces had nearly been enough to sway Lucina from her course of action. Only the reminder that she had a mission to fulfill allowed her to hold firm to her current course of action, even as Chrom's own hand went to the sword sheathed at his left hip.

Even without the two men wearing their emotions so openly on their faces, Lucina could sense the shock and betrayal coursing through them… not that such a reaction had been unexpected in the first place given what she'd just said and done.

_'__How could they _not_ react that way, though?'_ she thought sardonically. _'I've not really given them many reasons to trust me, after all…'_

Lucina shook her head and focused her thoughts back on the present, trying to ignore the feeling of Robin's eyes boring into her. She didn't want to look – didn't want to see what sort of emotions they'd be reflecting.

"You don't know it yet, but I'm about to change your fate," she said, feeling the tension building in her body as the moment of truth drew ever closer.

She'd imagined the event playing out in her head a hundred if not a thousand times by now. She knew the story as well as she knew all the fairy tales about the Hero-King and the Radiant Hero and all manner of heroes from times long past.

It was on this very night that the Exalt Emmeryn would be slain and Prince Chrom would be gravely injured, setting the stage for a series of events that would lead the world down the path to ruin.

She clenched her jaw. _'Not if I have anything to do or say about it…!'_

"Change… my fate…?" Chrom murmured, clearly unimpressed by what he could only perceive as mad ramblings.

Lucina nodded. "Yes…" she answered calmly, turning partway to motion with her head towards the well-trimmed garden bushes behind her while still keeping an eye on Chrom in case he tried anything hasty.

_'__Here goes…'_

"You there, hiding in the bushes," she called out confidently, with all the inner strength she still had in her. "I know you're there, so there's little use continuing to hide. Show yourself!"

Almost as if on cue, a cloaked man – an _assassin_ – burst out from the foliage, a wicked dagger falling out of his sleeve and into his waiting hand as he lunged forward.

Lucina's eyes narrowed behind her mask as she threw her sword up into the air, moonlight reflecting off of the blade's surface as it spun through the night sky. Vaulting up after it, Lucina twisted her body in midair as she caught her weapon, giving her a clear view of the assassin as his short sword flashed through the empty space she'd been occupying a mere moment before. Turning her motion into a spin as she descended behind the assassin, Lucina brought her blade down in a vicious two-handed diagonal slash that cut through the assassin's back from left hip to right shoulder, severing the man's spine and ensuring his last moments were, at the very least, mostly painless.

Rising from her crouch, Lucina flicked the blood off of Falchion's blade before holding it out to the side and away from Chrom and Robin – a clear sign of her good intentions, or so she hoped.

"Hopefully this proof will suffice," she said, almost taking pride at how nonchalant and casual her tone sounded when compared to the pounding adrenaline rushing through her veins. "Will you be more willing to believe me now?"

Robin nodded. "I'm more than willing to listen to what else you have to say after _that _display of fortune-telling," he said.

Lucina's spirits soared at the tactician's open declaration of trust, and it actually took much of her self-control not to let a smile touch her lips.

_'__Sir Robin… thank you.'_

The good cheer that resulted from the masked girl's high spirits lasted but a moment, however, as a violent rustling of the leaves behind her alerted her and her two companions to another presence still hidden within the bushes from which the first assassin had emerged.

_'__What? There was another?!'_ she thought in alarm, a cry of surprise leaving her lips as she turned about to face the new threat, her eyes catching the second cloaked assassin in the air and angling right for her.

In her haste to react to the second assassin's appearance, however, Lucina failed to register everything in her immediate vicinity…

… Leading to her right foot stepping on the discarded sword that had been lying at her feet as she attempted to set her feet in order to meet the airborne assassin's assault. The sword moved along with the sole of Lucina's boot, throwing her off-balance and leaving her completely exposed to the assassin's sword.

In the half-second it took between her slipping on the first assassin's sword and the second assassin swinging his own blade, Lucina couldn't even fear for her own safety.

The blade closed the distance in an instant, its sharp edge gleaming in the moonlight as it sought Lucina's flesh.

* * *

Robin watched, eyes wide with horror, as the assassin swung his short sword at the stumbling Lucina, a shrill _clang_ sounding out through the night air as the sword swept across Lucina's face. The tactician released the breath he hadn't realized he'd held when he saw the weapon come away without any blood on its edge or being sent flying.

Somehow, by whatever stroke of luck, Lucina slipping on the first assassin's discarded sword meant that the second assassin's blade missed her face by mere centimeters, only catching her mask and cleaving it in two right down the middle.

As he lurched into action, Robin had just enough time to notice a flash of dark blue and a gasp from the direction of the now-unmasked swordswoman before he was right on top of the assassin. He ducked the cloaked man's panicked strike and moved within arm's reach in a single smooth motion, his right hand crackling with electricity as he drove his palm right into the assassin's chest.

The discharge of the contained lightning spell caused a muffled flash to erupt where Robin's hand had made contact with cuirass, the light leather doing nothing to stop the magical attack from coursing through the assassin before the force of the energy threw him back several paces.

Robin shook his hand, trying to rid himself of the feeling of static from his own spell's backwash, before he remembered that Lucina had been hit and turned his attention to the girl.

What he saw quite simply took his breath away.

_'__She… she's _beautiful_…'_

True, he'd thought the same thing when he'd first seen Lucina unmasked that night in Regna Ferox, but the force of the assassin's sword cleaving through her mask had also worked loose her hair from whatever clips she'd been using to simulate a more masculine hairstyle.

Now, Lucina's long, lustrous deep blue locks were visible for the world to see, the cerulean tresses cascading down over her shoulders and back like ocean waves. Robin noted that they framed her face _very_ prettily, helping to draw attention to her striking sapphire-like eyes that already stood out like jewels against her pale skin.

However, Robin's mesmerized state lasted only about as long as it took for him to realize one other thing now that he was able to gaze at Lucina's unmasked features once again.

_'__Speaking of pale skin… she does _not_ look good…'_ he thought grimly, his mood souring as he noted that Lucina looked even more tired and distraught than when he'd last seen her face without her mask. Her skin was even more pallid than it had been previously, further highlighting the ever more pronounced dark lines beneath her eyes – beneath a pair of haunted, dull, lifeless blue orbs that continued to speak to him about a life of pain, traumas, and loss that never got the chance to heal.

The tactician sighed. _'So much hardship in a face so young…'_ he thought, the face of the knight from the border flashing through his mind. Absently, he began to wonder again just _what_ it was that had to happen for two people barely into their mid-teens to have seen so much and carry weapons as they did.

He was saved from further musings, however, by Chrom speaking up and asking the question Robin was sure he himself would have asked had he not already had prior knowledge of Lucina's true gender.

"Y-you're a… woman…?!" Chrom breathed out, the sheer incredulity in his voice nearly enough to coax a chuckle out of Robin.

Robin hid a smile. _'How very elegantly worded, my friend. Of _course _she's a woman.'_

If Lucina's reply was anything to go by, though she probably thought much the same thing he did.

"And quite the actor, apparently," she replied to Chrom's question, her voice once again raised to its natural pitch now that her cover had been blown completely – well, not _completely_, given the fact that she still shifted so that her left side was facing away from Chrom.

While he'd already heard Lucina's real voice back in Ferox, Robin couldn't help but once again find it very pleasant to the ear, and it was doubly so when he considered that it reflected the amusement twinkling in her eyes and in the slight upward curves that touched the corners of her lips.

_'__That looks a bit better than that frown she always wears…'_

Lucina tilted her head in a manner that Robin found disarmingly cute. "To be perfectly honest, I'm surprised the only one who figured it out was your tactician here."

Chrom quickly turned on Robin, eyes wide. "You _knew_?!"

Robin simply offered up a nonchalant shrug.

"In my defense, telling you Marth was actually a woman wouldn't have changed anything, Chrom," he replied almost carelessly, almost as if he hadn't thought keeping a secret from his employer, benefactor, and commander was anything worth the alarm Chrom was showing. "At the very least, it doesn't change anything else we know about her."

Lucina nodded in agreement. "At any rate… Now that you know, I suppose there's little reason for me to continue this little charade, is there?"

Robin snorted in poorly concealed amusement. _'She certainly had a good teacher in the sarcasm department.'_

Before either of the two men could reply to Lucina's rhetorical question, however, an explosion from one of the higher floors in the palace rocked the entire building.

As a column of smoke began to billow out from a new hole in what seemed to be the far side of the castle, Robin quickly turned to Chrom.

"Look, if you weren't convinced before, I hope you're convinced now," he said quickly. "If there's a good time to believe in Marth's words – cryptic as they are – now's as good a time as any!"

Not really waiting for Chrom to reply, Robin then turned his attention to Lucina, who straightened as she came under his gaze.

"And you, Marth… will you be willing to fight alongside us and follow my orders once again? Just like that time in the forest?"

Lucina paused for but a moment before giving the tactician a firm nod.

"Of course. That is why I'm here," she replied, a fierce resolve overtaking the perpetual exhaustion in her features. "You may count on me, Sire."

Robin nodded. "Good, now let's go!"

* * *

The explosion and the pillar of smoke billowing up from the palace had been visible even from the outskirts of the castle town, enough so that what few people were still awake at this late hour had immediately reacted with varying degrees of shock and alarm at the sight.

The only one who hadn't been rooted to the spot had been the young cerulean-haired knight, who had immediately taken off running the moment the sight and sound of the explosion had reached his eyes and ears.

The knight made his way through the mostly-empty streets and alleys of Ylisstol's city proper, taking as direct a path to the castle as he could without risking discovery from any of the patrols or the members of the civilian populace who were now emerging from their homes – and how could they not, the blast had been loud enough that the entire city had probably heard it.

Someone moving with his speed and sense of urgency would only be treated with suspicion, never mind the fact he was dressed in Ylissean colors and patterns. Being seen head right for the palace just after some sort of explosive weapon or spell had gone off was just _asking_ for trouble.

As he approached the castle walls, the knight could only hope that somehow his tardiness or any of the detours he was taking would not prove costly.

With the current situation facing them all, he was already cutting a _very_ fine line just by erring on the side of caution.

_'__Damn it… please, just don't let me be too late…!'_

* * *

Robin resisted the urge to sigh irritably as he and Chrom sprinted down the hallway towards the royal apartments. What had started out as a fairly bad day and had gotten better in the afternoon had quickly gone south now that they were dealing with what he could only assume was a Plegian attempt on the Exalt's life.

'_Do tell me what else could happen, world,_' he thought dryly. _'Come at me. Do your worst.'_

Lucina, though, apparently couldn't be bothered to keep pace with him and Chrom. They weren't slow, by any means – and, personally, Robin thought they did quite well in the running department when compared to most of the other Shepherds not named Lon'qu – but it became readily apparent that to Lucina they may as well have been moving in slow-motion.

Within moments she'd put on a burst of speed that quickly carried her past the two men, leaving them to follow in her wake as she disappeared down the hallway, her cloak and hair fluttering in the air until she was completely out of sight.

_'__Odd… she knew exactly where to go, without even asking either of us.'_

The thought elicited a frown from Robin as he considered the new information he'd managed to glean tonight from the enigmatic swordswoman's words and actions.

He knew he could trust Lucina – he'd taken the conscious decision to trust her, at the very least, and hers were eyes that were incapable of any sort of deception – but it was still disconcerting just how much she seemed to _know_.

Foresight aside – and that in itself was a mystery all on its own – Lucina's intimate knowledge of the palace layout was yet another piece to add to the complicated puzzle that she represented. It wasn't even that she simply knew her way around. Even the most minute details such as the hole in the wall that Chrom had bashed in, concealed, and _not informed anyone else about_ were not beyond reach of Lucina's knowledge.

_'__Very odd, indeed…'_ he thought. _'That isn't the sort of thing she'd learn elsewhere except from someone who _lives here_…'_

His eyebrows furrowed for a moment as he contemplated _that_ particular little detail, before the sight of several armed figures appearing at the other end of the hallway made him shove all thoughts concerning Lucina's origins to the back of his mind.

The prince and tactician came to a halt as a trio of axefighters and a cloaked… thief? Assassin? Robin couldn't tell – made their way towards them.

"Chrom, go on ahead," Robin murmured, his words prompting the prince to whip about and level a heated look at the tactician.

"What?!" he whispered harshly. "Robin, are you mad?! There's too many of them for you to handle on your own!"

Robin shook his head. "No, Chrom, but–"

"But nothing! I can't let you fight them alone!"

Robin sighed. "Alright, listen. You need to get to your sister," he said coolly. "Her life is more important than anyone else's except maybe your own. There are many tacticians out there who can take my place; by that account, I can be viewed as expendable. Emmeryn isn't. If she dies tonight, suffice to say we might have already lost the war before it's even begun in earnest."

Chrom shook his head. "You're not expendable, Robin… no one is, not to me."

"I know," Robin replied easily. "But there are times when you have to make difficult choices."

Chrom's hand curled into a tight fist as he realized the truth in his tactician's words.

"Damn it, Robin, I really wish you didn't make so much sense right now," he ground out reluctantly. "You better not die on me."

The tactician smiled. "Don't worry, I'll try my best not to. Someone has to save you from yourself after all," he replied quietly. "Now go. Hurry. Marth might need your help if the assassins have come in force. I know for sure that Emmeryn will need you at your side."

Chrom hesitated a moment more before nodding and making for the staircase, bounding up two or even three steps at a time as he rushed for his older sister's quarters.

Robin barely registered the prince's departure, having already focused on the four intruders approaching him as he drew his sword and tome.

There were enemies to defeat and friends to save. Everything else could wait until afterwards.

* * *

Lucina narrowed her eyes as she approached the Exalt's chambers, noting as she took cover behind a pillar that the evening torches lining the hallway were still lit and the members of the Exalt's royal guards were still at their posts.

_'__Either the assassins haven't reached here yet… or they're already here and just waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike…'_

Almost as if it were cued by her thoughts, a flash of silver within the shadows in the corridor caught Lucina's eye, allowing her to pick up on movements that were going on in the darkness. Before she could so much as even react, a dagger flew silently through the air, piercing one of Emmeryn's royal guards in the neck with a sickeningly wet thud. The mortally-wounded guard fell to the side, making gurgling sounds as he clawed at his throat, almost as if the action would somehow prevent him from choking on his own blood.

The remaining guard stared wide-eyed at his dying companion for a brief moment before hefting his spear and moving in the direction from which the dagger had come. However, that one single moment of distraction had been more than long enough to seal the Ylissean guard's demise, as another assassin was able to get the drop on him – quite literally – and shove a blade through his back and out his chest.

Lucina's heart clenched painfully as the assassin pulled his sword out from the royal guard's body, her mouth running dry and her throat thickening as the spray of blood from the assassin's actions tainted the hallway's normally pristine floor and walls.

_'__I'm sorry… Please, forgive me…'_ she thought, shutting her eyes tight to stave off the urge to shed tears at the senseless loss of life. She regretted the loss of those two lives, but, with so much at stake, she could not afford to act so impulsively. It was almost cruel of her to seemingly declare them as 'acceptable losses', but it was realistic to expect that even her interventions would not be enough to save everyone.

People were going to die, and to imagine otherwise was nothing more than a hopelessly naïve ideal… not that whatever rationalizations she gave herself would make watching innocent men die in front of her any easier.

Lucina took a deep breath to steady herself, willing away the emotions that would only serve to cloud her judgement, before opening her eyes once more.

She would not look away, and she would not forget. She would remember their faces, remember their sacrifice, and fight just that little bit harder for a better future they would no longer had the chance to see.

A flash of anger filled the young swordswoman as the visible assassin rummaged and kicked at the dead guards' bodies, clearly searching them for a key to the royal apartments. Frustrated at the clear lack of success, the assassin stood and made his way up to the door to Emmeryn's room.

The moment the assassin raised a hand to the door, Lucina decided that she could not wait any longer. Chrom and Robin or no, she had to move _now_.

_'__I can't fail… I can't…!'_

Determination – and perhaps even a hint of desperation – fueled Lucina's body as the young swordswoman left her hiding place and rushed forward with a burst of speed that belied her fatigue, Falchion held low and ready to strike. During her charge, a glint of light from one of the shadowy corners around the Exalt's door caught Lucina's eye at the last moment, prompting her to drop into a slide that left Falchion's edge scraping across the ground even as a dagger sailed over her head.

The assassin at the door heard Lucina's sword leaving a trail along the floor with the all-too-familiar sound of metal scraping against stone, but by the time he could turn in her direction and bring his blade up to defend himself, Lucina had already crossed the entirety of the distance between them and was right on top of him.

Sacred steel flashed through the air as Lucina rose and swung in one smooth motion, her quick two-handed slash opening the assassin from left hip to right shoulder. The force of Lucina's attack sent the man sprawling into the oaken door he'd intended to open, colliding with it and splattering blood all over the carved wood before crumpling to a heap.

Lucina's instincts screamed at her to move, and she almost instantly obliged by using the momentum of her initial attack to step to the side. A blade flashed through the space where her head had been just a half-second earlier, managing to nick her cheek instead of the intended decapitation its wielder had aimed for. Planting her foot to arrest her motion, Lucina swung from her hip, Falchion cutting through the assassin's leather cuirass – and the assassin himself – with ease.

Recovering quickly as the second assassin fell, Lucina turned to put the door at her back, sword held up across her face and body in a one-handed high guard. Her sapphire-like eyes almost wildly darted left and right, assessing her deathly quiet surroundings and just about catching the outlines of several cloaked figures moving through the patches of darkness that the shadows offered.

Lucina tensed, her grip tightening on Falchion's hilt as she waited for the assassins to make the first move… although those mere moments of inactivity after a burst of motion were enough for her vision to swim, very nearly leading her to falter and collapse to one knee as her endurance rapidly reached its limits.

_'__N-no! Not now!'_ she screamed at herself, trying to will away the ever growing fatigue plaguing her mind and body. _'I… must… keep… fighting!'_

Shaking her head fiercely to rid herself of the sudden dizziness, Lucina retook her stance and focused on maintaining her balance and watching her surroundings, hoping against hope that the assassins after the Exalt's life hadn't managed to catch her momentary lapse.

Judging by how she didn't have to wait too long for the assassins to act, they most certainly had, and were now fully aware that they were dealing with an opponent who was not at all in good condition.

A glint of silver out of the corner of her eye alerted Lucina to an aggressor approaching from her flank. Glancing the other way to make sure she wasn't being attacked from two sides, Lucina turned in the direction of the revealed assassin and dashed forward to meet him halfway.

Falchion flashed through the air as the assassin thrust forward with his own sword, the two weapons missing each other by the barest of margins before continuing on to their target.

Lucina ducked ever so slightly as she, allowing her spaulder to absorb the assassin's premature attack and redirect the sword away from any vital points. The assassin, on the other hand, tried to twist his body away from Falchion's oncoming blade, but his early commitment to a motion was a fatal mistake that left him exposed to Lucina's counterattack.

Falchion cut through the assassin's chest like a hot knife through butter, blood spraying onto the young swordswoman at the other end of the sword even as the two's respective momentums carried them sailing past each other.

Quickly skidding to a stop, Lucina allowed instinct to take over as she turned and swung Falchion in a wild arc, the sacred steel battering aside a thrown knife from an assassin that had attempted to blindside her from the back. Continuing her turn into a somersault, Lucina flipped over the offending assassin that had attempted a follow-up attack with his sword. Falchion flashed through the air once again as Lucina sailed over the lunging assassin, cutting through his cloak and the back of his cuirass.

Carrying the momentum of her somersault into a forward roll, Lucina quickly came up in a crouch with Falchion already angled across her body, allowing her to catch the sword belonging to a fifth assassin before it could even come close to wounding her.

_'__Just how many of them did they send after the Exalt?!'_ Lucina asked mentally as she pushed hard against the assassin, grinding her teeth together with the effort.

Lacking any form of leverage or proper defensive stance and battling against her ever-growing fatigue, however, Lucina found herself quickly losing ground beneath the assassin's sword, the pressure being exerted upon her forcing her down to one knee. She still managed to hold firm for a few moments, but the constant exertion had quickly drained what little endurance she still had left in her body.

Her vision swam once more as white began to nibble at the edges of her perception, and in that single moment of lost focus the contest had already been decided.

The assassin gave Lucina a rough shove, sending her tumbling back, but even in her state the young swordswoman had just enough presence of mind to allow the momentum to carry her into a roll backwards before planting her feet and springing forward with Falchion poised for a counterstrike.

Lucina thrust Falchion forward towards her opponent's heart, but with her fatigue weighing her limbs down and serving a constant mental distraction the motion was far more sluggish than it normally would have been. The assassin easily read her attack, easily deflecting it with a deft flick of his own blade.

A flash of light reflecting off of something metal made Lucina quickly jerk to the side and pull her sword back in close. Angling it across her body, barely managing to keep the assassin's gauntlet-mounted razors from ripping into her. However, she hadn't been able to fully absorb the impact.

The force of the impact from the assassin's blow sent Lucina slamming back-first into the Exalt's door, the impact with the heavy oaken door rattling the girl and forcing a cry of pain from her lips as she sank down to the ground. Struggling to lift herself up from the ground as her chest heaved with shallow, if ragged, breaths, the young swordsman only managed to raise her head just as the assassin's sword was drawn back and swung forward with the intent to kill.

Lucina's eyes widened, the world seeming to slow down around her as her perception focused entirely on herself and the sword moving forward to cut her down.

However, in those few fragments of a second, she quickly realized that absolutely nothing she could do would prevent the assassin from delivering a direct and almost surely fatal blow.

The young swordswoman screwed her eyes shut as the assassin's sword moved to pierce her chest and heart, a single thought – a single name – flitting across her consciousness as fear overtook her.

_'__Leon…!'_

The loud _clang_ of metal striking metal filled the air, Lucina's eyes tightening as she tensed for the inevitable explosion of sharp pain erupting from her chest…

… An explosion of pain that never actually came.

In the moment it took Lucina to realize that the expected pain had never arrived, she also suddenly realized that what she'd heard had been the weapon aimed for her striking _something else_ before it could reach her.

At first opening her eyes slowly, Lucina's sapphire orbs quickly shot open in surprise at a familiar, all-too-welcome sight before her.

"I… I'm not dreaming… am I…?" she whispered hopefully, tears of relief and joy pricking at her eyes as she took in the white coat, long cerulean-blue hair, elegant turquoise scarf, and gold-trimmed silver armor of the one person she could say with full confidence mattered more to her than any other in the world.

"L… Leon…?"

The young man standing protectively before her used the entire length of his longsword to hurl the assassin away and open up some breathing space around them before turning ever so slightly to gaze at her with the most beautiful pair of sapphire-like eyes she could ever remember seeing.

"You're definitely not dreaming…" he replied gently, his quiet, even voice sending Lucina's heart soaring. "I'm real, Luci. I'm here."

Lucina slumped back as utter relief and elation coursed through her body. The tears pooling at the corners of her eyes finally began to slide down her cheeks, leaving wet streaks trailing down features which were now touched by an absolutely radiant smile.

_'__Brother…'_


	12. Chapter Ten - The Longest Night

**Author's Note: Hoo, man, those last three months were madness incarnate.  
**

**Anyways, I'm back, and so is this story! Fear not, everyone, for I yet still live! 2016 did not claim me!**

**Before anything else, I'd just like to apologize for the unforgivably long wait, and would like to wish everyone a blessed New Year. I hope the holiday season has left you positive and hopeful and looking forward to making the best of the coming year.**

**Hopefully I can update this on a more regular basis, but... well, I'll try my best. I hope you'll all continue to bear with my highly irregular update schedule.**

**As per usual, any discussions, thoughts, feedback, questions, and the like can be sent through reviews. Rest assured I will reply soonest (and I'd like to think I'm pretty quick at that!)**

**This was actually quite difficult to get out, particularly the second half of the chapter as I didn't want to drag things out for too long but ended up doing so anyways because that's just the kind of horrible human being I am. That said, I hope you'll let me know what you'll think, as I still tried my best to churn out a good chapter for you all. Cheers, and ****Naga be with you all! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem: Awakening or any characters, concepts, weapons, etc. that are found therein. Anything within this fic but not from the source material are my own creations.**

* * *

_**Chapter Ten – The Longest Night**_

Location: Exalt's Palace, Ylisstol

Robin's brow furrowed as he took a step back, taking in deep breaths as he assessed the situation around him.

'_Chrom might have been right to be a little worried…'_

One of the Plegian axe fighters – and Robin was sure that they were Plegian even with the distinct lack of crests or markings adorning their armor or clothing – lay dead at his feet, blood pooling around the man's cooling body. Two other Plegian axe fighters and a third man shrouded in a tattered cloak – a spy? An assassin? Robin couldn't be sure with most of his form shrouded by said cloak – still lived, however, and it was they who now occupied much of Robin's attention as they spread out to encircle the lone tactician.

'_Some help would be appreciated, but I guess it would be a bit much to hope for– there!'_

He suddenly turned and swung his sword diagonally across his body, giving the oncoming axe head a strong shove that altered its trajectory and sent it crashing into the palace's marble floor before it could even come close to hitting him. Planting his left foot on the ground and putting the weight of his entire body on it, Robin stepped forward into a two-handed slash that cut open the axe fighter's back from his right shoulder down.

Without pausing to even check if the wounded man would stay down, Robin quickly turned to face the other axe-wielding fighter just as he raised his weapon and swung wildly. The tactician ducked the Plegian fighter's out-of-control swing, half-spinning and raising his sword to deflect a knife thrust from the cloaked man – a spy or assassin, Robin quickly concluded – before he attempted a quick counterattack that the shrouded man managed to dodge with ease.

Robin had no time to press the issue as his attention was drawn to the hulking axe fighter who was attempting to split his skull – and the rest of his body – right down the middle. The tactician quickly sidestepped the Plegian fighter's overhead swing and moved to counterattack before an enraged roar alerted him to the other Plegian – the one he'd wounded earlier – rejoining the fray.

The tactician dodged once, twice, before finding himself boxed in between both axe wielders with the bleeding man's axe coming down on him and forcing him to bring his blade up right into its path.

The impact of his sword clashing against the wounded axe traveled back up the tactician's arms, shocking his nerves and nearly forcing him to lose his grip on his weapon.

'_Damn it… why, oh _why _does this guy have to have enough resilience to shrug off a wound like that?!'_

By some miracle of willpower and focus, Robin managed to avoid dropping his sword even as the strength behind the wounded – and definitely enraged if his yells were any indication – axeman's follow-up swing against his sword took him backwards and off his feet.

The tactician hit the ground hard, _that_ particular impact jarring him enough to do what the earlier clash hadn't been able to as his old iron sword fell from his temporarily nerveless fingers and went clattering across the floor as he skidded across the hall.

Lights exploded in his vision as he quite literally skidded headfirst into a pillar, and it was at that point that Robin subconsciously knew he was as good as dead. The sound of sharp steel slicing into flesh reached his ears, and Robin tensed, waiting for the explosive pain of an axe sinking into his chest that should have accompanied it almost instantly.

Contrary to his expectations, the sensation never came, although the sounds of battle continued on for a few more tense seconds before the world grew silent, leaving the tactician completely confused as to what had happened while stars danced before his eyes.

Shaking his aching head as he rose to a sitting position, Robin groaned as his mind resisted his best efforts to regain his bearings.

"Reckless isn't normally a word I would think to use to describe you," a familiar voice said, its blunt words cutting through the light haze that had settled over Robin's mind as cleanly as any blade.

Blinking blearily as he looked up, Robin's eyebrows rose as he found the Shepherds' newest recruit standing over him, blade unsheathed and bloodied. The bodies of the two other bodies lay dead on the ground behind him.

"Lon'qu!"

The taciturn swordsman gave the tactician a nod of acknowledgement as he flicked the blood off of his katana before sheathing his weapon and offering the downed tactician a hand.

Robin frowned as he took the proffered hand and was helped to his feet. "Not that I'm looking the gift horse in the mouth or anything, but… what are you doing here?"

"The explosion," Lon'qu replied simply. "I ran into Sir Frederick and we proceeded together until we came across the princeling. He mentioned you were still holding off enemies… and the rest of it should be rather obvious and not require any real explanation."

The tactician nodded. "I see…" he murmured. "Thanks, Lon'qu. I owe you one, then."

Lon'qu shook his head. "You do not. The West-Khan holds you in high esteem and instructed me to learn and grow under your command; it is only right that I lend my blade and loyalty to your cause."

'_As serious as ever… can't even accept simple thanks, can he?'_

Robin frowned at Lon'qu's insistence on their relationship strictly being a professional one, but quickly decided that the myrmidon's behavior was something best left until after this whole mess had been concluded.

There were far more pressing issues that demanded his attention.

'_Like ensuring Chrom, Lissa, and Emmeryn both survive the night.'_

* * *

'_It looks like the gods actually _do f_avor me sometimes…' _Leon thought to himself rather sardonically as he ever-so-cautiously took half a step backwards, edging just a tiny bit closer to Lucina and the door to the Exalt's quarters.

His crystalline blue eyes narrowed as he took stock of the situation: Behind him, Lucina still sat against the Exalt's door, chest heaving as she struggled to regain control of her breath _and_ her frayed emotions.

Leon frowned at her rather sickly pallor and the dark lines beneath her misty, clouded eyes. _'I've failed you, Luci…' _he thought bitterly._ 'I've failed you again.'_

He shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts and refocused on the situation at hand. Self-pity could wait until the Exalt was no longer in danger.

Two assassins still lived, or so that was what his eyes and ears could tell him earlier; it was difficult to ascertain the number of assassins still alive now that the remaining enemies had retreated to the shadows and the only sounds he could hear were the crackling torches that illuminated the hallway in either direction.

As things stood, it was almost as if he was fighting blind and deaf – a distinct disadvantage in any battle, and one that would be almost fatal given he was already facing superior numbers in addition to having people he needed to be protecting.

He smiled grimly. _'Unfortunate that even when they favor me the situation itself is _still_ less than favorable.'_

Leon's instincts suddenly screamed at him, dragging him out from his thoughts and spurring him into immediate action. The knight set his feet and swung his sword in a wide overhead arc, his long ponytail whipping about with the motion as he used his entire body to fuel the motion. The flat of his blade caught an assassin that had attempted to get the drop on him from the ceiling – how the man got up there, Leon could only imagine – and sent him flying into the shadows of the wall on the other side of the hallway, where he hit the wall with a sickening crunch.

Sharp eyes darted to the right as the rasp of metal sliding against leather alerted Leon to another assassin approaching him from his supposed blindside. The cerulean-haired knight hadn't so much as moved to meet the new attacker before a blur of blues intercepted his cloaked attacker.

'_Luci…!' _Leon thought with alarm as he realized his sister had somehow managed to rise to her feet and launch herself at his attacker despite her obvious fatigue and general lack of wellness.

His fears were unfounded, however, as Falchion flashed through the air with impossible speed, the gold and silver sword cutting into the cloak and the assassin it shrouded beneath. The contrasting momentums between assassin and sacred steel sent the fatally wounded man tumbling into a fall that Leon admitted would have been incredibly graceful had he not crashed on the ground in a sprawled heap.

Lucina straightened up and turned to face Leon, a tiny smile lighting up her face…

… until she wobbled slightly as her legs gave out beneath her.

Leon was at her side in an instant, steadying her with a firm but gentle grip on the upper portion of her left arm.

"S-sorry…" Lucina breathed out, her voice a harsh whisper as she seemed to flip between grasping his right forearm to aid her unsteady legs or forcing him to let go so she could – attempt to – stand under her own power.

The cerulean-haired knight forced away the frown that threatened to twist his lips downwards as he watched Lucina successfully keep on her feet despite her obvious fatigue. Were it entirely up to him, he'd set her back down in a seated position against the corridor's wall and make her get some badly-needed rest.

Even knowing that Lucina would react rather negatively to that, he was almost of the mind to do it anyway, but he decided to compromise and simply voice his concerns.

"Luci, you shouldn't force yourself," he murmured softly, concern lacing the tone of his words as he reluctantly released his grip on her arm. "Please… don't risk yourself. Let me shoulder the burden for the time being."

Of course, he fully expected Lucina to do the opposite of what he was asking; that was just the kind of person she was, never able to simply leave things to others when she could be doing her own part.

Leon bit back a sigh as his sister did exactly what he expected and gave him a vehement shake of her head, sending her own cerulean locks swaying.

"I can't…" she whispered shakily. "I can't let you fight alone… when you've already had to do so much because of me…"

Leon this time did frown. "Luci…"

His sister fixed her gaze on him, mustering up all the strength and will in eyes that mirrored his own.

"Brother."

The two glared at each other for a few short moments before the cerulean-haired knight sighed in resignation, knowing a lost battle when he saw one.

'_Gods damn it…'_

"Alright, I can see you won't be swayed by anything I say…" Leon replied, his free hand going down to a pouch hanging on his belt and retrieving a small vial which he then held out to Lucina. "But, at least drink this before more enemies come."

To the knight's immense relief, Lucina took the proffered vial without argument, popped the cap, and downed it in one quick pull. Her face screwed up as she did, letting Leon know _exactly_ what she thought of the taste, but she managed to swallow every last drop of the vial's contents before making a face and glaring rather disdainfully at the now-empty container.

"… Do I even want to know…?" she asked, wincing in clear disapproval as she handed the vial back to him.

Leon shrugged. "Tonic," he replied, pocketing the vial before pulling a flask from another belt hook and holding it out to Lucina. "I'm not quite sure what went into it, but I'm willing to trust in Laurent's skills as an apothecary."

Accepting the flask with a grateful smile, Lucina uncapped it and took several swigs of precious water, even going so far as to slosh some of the water around inside her mouth to clean out what was apparently a considerable and highly undesirable aftertaste.

'_Surely it wasn't _that_ bad, was it…?'_

"It was," Lucina replied, giving Leon a bit of the stink eye even as she handed him back his flask.

Leon chuckled softly at her obvious displeasure as he replaced his flask on its hook. "Was the question really that obvious?"

Before Lucina could reply, the sound of footsteps echoing from down both ends of the hallway alerted the siblings to approaching unknowns.

Lucina and Leon quickly gave each other minute nods before falling into a defensive position around the door, weapons in hand and raised in the case the new arrivals turned out to be hostiles.

"I take the left, you take the right?" Lucina called out.

Leon nodded. "… Sounds good," he added quickly when he realized Lucina would probably not have seen the gesture due to her facing the opposite end of the hallway.

The approaching footsteps grew louder, both siblings tensing in preparation for possible combat…

… Only for an all-too-familiar figure to suddenly burst out from the stairwell and stumble for a moment as he landed, an armored knight following right behind him.

Leon lowered his sword as his mouth dropped open ever so slightly in muted surprise.

'_Prince Chrom… and Sir Frederick, as well…'_

"Marth!" the Prince of Ylisse called out as he jogged up to the pair, Leon noting the not-so-subtle glance that both he and Frederick – the former's curious, the latter's suspicious – threw his way.

"Prince Chrom," Lucina replied. "I apologize for leaving you and Sir Robin behind, but I could not risk us arriving too late."

Chrom nodded. "Don't worry about it. I probably would have done the same myself if I'd been the faster one," he replied. "Besides… if the bodies of Emmeryn's guards are any indication, you rushing ahead of us was definitely a godsend. You have my thanks, Marth."

Lucina shook her head. "No, don't worry about it…" she started, before her brows furrowed. "By the way, Sire… where might your tactician be?"

'_Tactician…?' _Leon thought to himself. _'Now that's curious. Why the interest, Luci?'_

Chrom ran a hand through his hair. "He stayed behind and held back some enemies so I could carry on after you," he replied, Lucina's expression darkening at the prince's explanation. "I sent Lon'qu back to him, though, so hopefully he's alright and making his way here himself."

Lucina made to reply, but the sudden commotion of axe fighters, armored but unmounted cavalrymen, and cloaked figures storming out from the stairwell further down the hallway – the one that connected the second floor to the royal apartment wing's gardens, if Leon remembered correctly – stopped whatever words had been forming on her lips.

'_Of course, the day wouldn't be complete without more Plegian attackers, either…'_ Leon thought as he lifted his sword, hearing a similar cacophony of noise from behind that alerted him to another group approaching from the other side.

* * *

The sudden noise from behind prompted Lucina to turn, her eyes narrowing as she spied a second squad of soldiers approaching from the other end of the corridor.

"We have incoming on the other side!" she called out as she moved to take a defensive posture next to Leon. "You can leave them to us!"

She barely heard Chrom's acknowledgement, the problem of having to split their attention already washed from her thought processes.

Leon stepped up beside her. "Hopefully reinforcements will arrive soon," he murmured. "We've faced worse odds, but…"

'… _But you're hardly in good condition, and Chrom and Frederick might not be able to handle the other side on their own for too long…'_

Lucina grimaced at the portion that was left unsaid. As much as she'd continually tried to deny it, there really was no way of keeping up appearances… especially not with Leon, the one person who could read her better than anyone else in the world, living or dead.

She was in a bad way, and they both knew it.

"Let me take the lead," Leon offered softly.

Before Lucina could even muster up a reply, her brother had already sprinted forward, his white coat and translucent turquoise scarf fluttering with his movements as he crossed the gap between them and their adversaries in quick strides.

Lucina bit back a sigh and followed in after Leon, watching as he used his entire body to launch himself forward into his opening attack. His longsword came around in a graceful arc, the weapon's steel cutting through one of the axe fighters – cuirass and all – like a hot knife through butter before crashing into the marble floor of the palace.

That was as far as observations went before Lucina threw herself into the middle of the melee, everything else lost to her instincts and the heightened sense of awareness that came upon her every time she entered combat.

She took a running leap forward and vaulted over Leon's crouched form, rolling over him and bringing Falchion down onto one of the armored soldiers that had been looking to make an attack on her brother. Her blade was caught by the Plegian's lance, but it left him hopelessly exposed to Leon's follow-up attack as he rose and swung his longsword in a massive circle, the flat of his blade catching the man square in the side of his head and sending him sprawling to the ground.

Lucina rose in the wake of Leon's attack, Falchion flashing forward and spearing into the abdomen of an axe fighter before the man could even bring his raised axe down.

"Above," Leon suddenly called out, Lucina drawing her sword back and leaping away in reaction to the simple statement as her brother stepped into her place and adjusted his posture before swinging his sword in a grand vertical arc and cutting down an assassin who'd tried to drop on them from the ceiling.

Leon shook his head. "You'd think they'd have learned after that trick didn't work the first time…" Lucina heard him murmur as his sword moved to parry a spear from his blindside before she could so much as utter a warning. Nonetheless, Lucina moved quickly and seized the opportunity he'd presented, springing out from behind her brother and leaping at the knight from an exposed angle he couldn't hope to defend from.

Falchion flashed through the air as Lucina struck at the unprotected midsection that wasn't covered by breastplate or hip armor, her sword's sacred steel cutting through the knight's tunic and flesh without any resistance. The sword came away bloody as the man dropped, something the cerulean-haired girl tried not to think about as she skidded to a stop before rising back to her feet and searching for her next opponent.

Noticing that Leon was engaging the remaining four enemies on his own, she began making her way towards him before she saw his eyes suddenly widen in alarm.

"Lu– Marth! The door!" he suddenly said, tone firm and raised almost to a commanding shout as he gave a forceful shove that sent a knight sprawling back before lashing out with his longsword and forcing one of the cloaked assassins to leap back and evade his swing.

Lucina's eyes widened in sudden realization as she turned t in the direction of the Exalt's quarters, finding that one of the Plegian assailants attacking from the other side had managed to slip by Chrom and Frederick's defensive line.

'_No, two!'_ she realized as she spotted a cloaked man just about hidden from view by the first man's larger frame.

Ice filled her veins as she watched repeated swings of the larger man's axe batter the lock – and the door – open, removing the last line of defense between the Plegian assailants and Emmeryn.

"Get the door!" Leon shouted again as his sword found its mark and opened up the last remaining axe fighter from right shoulder to right hip. "I can handle things here!"

Lucina let out a wordless scream as she turned and sprinted for the door, desperation fueling the cerulean-haired girl as she pushed herself to use all the speed she could muster from her tired, tonic-boosted frame even as she became painfully aware that crossing the entire distance would be impossible before the Plegian had slain the defenseless Exalt.

Lucina could only watch with wide, horror-filled eyes as the man lifted his axe and rushed in with a bellowed war cry…

'_Aunt Emmeryn!'_

… Only for a blast of light to blow the door wide-open from the inside, illuminating the corridor as it sent the axe fighter flying back out the doorway and into the wall on the opposite side.

Lucina quelled the surprise that blossomed inside her as she sped towards the cloaked man still standing next to the door that was now barely hanging onto its hinges. She put energy into her legs and took a running leap at the cloaked assassin, crossing the last couple of meters between them and using her momentum to fuel her midair lunge with Falchion.

The legendary blade struck true, sacred steel rending cloak and tunic and flesh all at once as her blade entered and left the man's body without any sign or form of resistance.

She skidded to a stop before the door, angling Falchion before her in a defensive posture as the axe fighter who'd originally broken in was rising to his feet, his face contorted with pain and berserker rage.

The man raised his axe, roared, and rushed forward before swinging wildly in an easily telegraphed overhead swing that nonetheless forced Lucina to roll to the side before she came up with a power swing of her own.

Surprise momentarily flitted across Lucina's face as she found the man's axe meeting Falchion head-on, the impact of sacred steel against worn iron traveling back up her limbs and forcing a grunt of exertion from her lips.

"Marth! Incoming!" Leon called out again, making Lucina glance over her shoulder just long enough to register that one of the Plegians her brother had been fighting had managed to break away from the fighting while he was preoccupied with the other assailants.

It left Lucina in a bit of a pinch, as she still had one axe pushing down hard against Falchion… and not a lot of time to come up with a strategy that wouldn't leave her open to the attack of one Plegian or the other given her limited options.

"_O holy light…"_ a voice suddenly chanted, making Lucina's eyes widen in surprise.

'_An aria?!'_

Before Lucina could discern the magic verse's source, a brilliant beam of light lanced out from behind the large axe fighter she was pushing against, flying past both of them and spearing through the chest of the assassin who'd been approaching from her blind side.

The axe fighter's jaw fell open in shock as he watched his comrade fall, giving Lucina an opening she was all too happy to take advantage of as she stopped pushing against the man's axe and leaped backwards, leaving him to be carried forward into a fall by his now-unchecked momentum.

Lucina launched herself forward as soon as her feet touched the ground, vaulting over the falling axe fighter with a somersault and lashing out with Falchion as their bodies passed each other. Falchion's sacred steel struck true, its blade coming away coated in blood as it tore down the entire length of the man's back.

Landing in an awkward tumble that she hastily corrected into a roll that barely absorbed some of the impact, Lucina shakily rose until she was on one knee.

A soft touch landed on Lucina's arm, the girl looking up and coming face-to-face with the gently-smiling Exalt.

"Thank you for your aid," Emmeryn said kindly. "I hope I was not far too presumptuous when I chose to assist you earlier."

'_Too close.'_

Lucina pulled back ever so slightly, just enough that it wouldn't be taken as a slight or as a sign of discomfort.

"Your Grace!" the cerulean-haired girl said as she straightened to face Emmeryn. "A-are you unharmed?"

The Exalt smiled softly. "As you can see," she replied gently as the two women rose to their feet. "Might I ask for your name, my lady?"

Lucina made to say something, but the sound of crackling lightning and a golden flash from her left – the side being defended by Prince Chrom and Sir Frederick – alerted her to a new arrival to this battle.

"Elthunder!" was the accompanying call of an ever-so-familiar voice as a bolt of lightning lanced in and struck one of the armored soldiers that had been occupying Frederick's attention. The Plegian's body convulsed as lightning crackled and arced over his form, his platemail serving as a conductor for the magically-produced electrical discharge that had led to his demise.

Lucina looked past the battling Prince Chrom and Sir Frederick to the source of the spell and voice, her spirits soaring ever further as she spied the now-familiar – and comforting, she almost dared to admit – snow-white hair and purple cloak that could only belong to the Shepherds' tactician, the Feroxi myrmidon Lon'qu right at his heels.

'_Sir Robin… thank goodness you're alright…'_

With Robin and Lon'qu arriving from the rear, the remaining enemies on Chrom's side of the hallway were quickly dealt with, leaving only…

"Lucina," Leon's voice said quietly from next to her, prompting a small jump and a sharp intake of breath from her as she turned to face her brother. She quickly glanced behind him, finding that the last two he'd been fighting were now on the floor, blood quickly pooling around their rapidly cooling corpses.

Blood was on him, too, and it made her brow crinkle in worry as she tried to discreetly examine him for any injuries that might have led to him bleeding.

Almost as if he could sense her thoughts, Leon spoke up. "It's not mine," he said reassuringly. "I would have wanted their deaths to be cleaner, but…"

Lucina nodded. "I understand, Brother," she replied, before biting her lip and looking away. "I'm… just glad you're here… I'm just glad you're alright. If I lost you, then I…"

Leon shushed her softly. "Don't worry, Luci," he said as he put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a comforting squeeze. "I'm here, I'm not going anywhere."

The cerulean-haired girl gave a soft nod as she leaned into his half-embrace, before her discipline took over once more and she – albeit reluctantly – pulled away.

She put on a brave face for him and nodded firmly. Relishing in her brother's comforting presence could wait until after this was finished.

There was still more work to be done this evening, after all.

She didn't notice Emmeryn giving her and Leon a curious, searching look… nor did she notice the almost-knowing gleam in her grey-green eyes.

* * *

'_Hah… I knew it,'_ Robin thought as he observed Lucina's actions with the mystery knight from before… and he took particular note of how she looked ever-so-reluctant to leave his one-armed embrace. _'They're at _least_ familiar with each other, if not actual blood relatives… and _that _looks highly likely given how they share so many physical traits.'_

Filing that tidbit of information away for later, Robin turned to Chrom and Frederick, who were moving to meet with him and Lon'qu.

"Well met, Sir Robin," Frederick greeted. "It is a relief to see you unharmed."

The tactician smiled crookedly. "It was… a bit of a close call, I'll admit," he replied, not quite willing to let Chrom know _how_ close a call it actually was. "Thanks for sending Lon'qu in my direction, by the way. His timing couldn't have been better."

"Ah, is that so?" Chrom said, smiling broadly as he turned to face the stoic myrmidon. "You have my thanks for saving Robin from himself, Lon'qu. I knew I could count on you."

Beside the snow-haired tactician, Lon'qu simply offered up a nonchalant shrug. "I told you, didn't I? You point, I stab. You teach, I learn. It's a simple enough arrangement."

Robin chuckled nervously at the reply, but he still felt that he could detect a faint amount of pride in the myrmidon's gruff words at having been praised for his actions.

_'__Maybe getting him to lighten up a bit might be one of my long-term goals in this army…'_

"Chrom."

The four men turned to face Emmeryn as she approached them, and it suddenly occurred to Robin that _Emmeryn_ – the person who was being targeted by these assailants – was standing right middle of the corridor and walking around out in the open almost without a care in the world.

"Emm!" Chrom yelped as he rushed up to her. "It's too dangerous out here, let's get you–"

The Exalt raised a hand and shook her head. "No, Chrom. Just find Lissa and get her to safety," she said evenly. "Please, while there's still time…"

The prince's lips twisted downwards. "Sorry, Emm, but I can't follow your orders. We're not leaving you. _I'm_ not leaving you."

_'__Damn right we aren't…' _Robin thought.

"Again, very well said, Sire," Lucina said as she and the mystery knight approached the quintet, Robin's eyes almost immediately going to the taller of the two.

Chrom gave the cerulean-haired girl a nod. "Marth. You have my thanks."

Lucina's eyes crinkled as the corners of her lips rose ever so slightly in a small smile that Robin couldn't help but find cute.

"Think nothing of it, Sire…" she replied softly, her sapphire-like eyes glimmering with an emotion Robin couldn't even hope to comprehend. "We only do what we must."

Beside her, the mystery knight seemed to have noticed Robin's gaze and bowed his head in acknowledgement, though the tactician was sure that to everyone else it may have looked as if he were merely expressing a silent agreement with Lucina's words.

_'__It's good timing by him, really… everyone would be none the wiser…'_

Lon'qu suddenly stiffened, alerting Robin to the fact that the Feroxi swordfighter sensed that something felt wrong…

… although he was far from ready for when Lon'qu suddenly turned and sprinted towards a column, sword drawn so quickly that it almost seemed to have teleported from its sheath and into the stoic myrmidon's hands.

"Hey, hey! Stop!" a man's voice cried out as a sword came skittering out from behind the pillar, followed shortly by a ginger-haired man in a tattered cloak.

Robin's eyes widened at the man's raised hands. "Lon'qu, don't kill him!" he shouted. "He's surrendering!"

The myrmidon froze mid-lunge, his sword still poised to strike, and Robin noted that the man's arms and legs shook with noticeable effort as he appeared to be in the middle of countermanding his own natural fighting instinct and superseding Robin's order over it.

"Robin?" Chrom asked in confusion, stopping short when the tactician raised a hand to forestall any further questions.

"Not now," Robin said. "Just trust me when I say we're better off with him alive than dead right now."

The ginger-haired man – hands up behind his head – was brought before Robin and Chrom, Lon'qu keeping his sword ready to strike should the cloaked man's intentions be less than honorable.

Chrom narrowed his eyes. "So… out with it, _Plegian_," he growled out rather venomously, Robin noting that the blue-haired man's fingers were wound tightly around Falchion's hilt. "Why surrender now?"

"Easy, blue blood," the thief said almost nonchalantly. Robin couldn't help but admire his composure, especially when Lon'qu's sword could cut into him at any moment. "First off, I'm not Plegian; I'm a Ylissean just like you. Second, I'm not here to hurt anyone."

_That _certainly caught Chrom off-guard. "A-A Ylissean…?" he asked. "… So why do you run with a band of…"

The ginger-haired man chuckled. "My, you don't have any idea of what actually goes on beyond the castle walls, do you, Blue?" he asked. "Believe it or not, not everyone has it as good as you do. Some of us have to resort to some… unscrupulous activities to make a living. Can't eat if you don't work, and if you're hungry you'll do almost anything to put food on the table."

Frederick's eyes narrowed. "Milord, that is virtually an admission that he's here to kill Her Grace! And all over mere coi–"

"By the goddess, are you as deaf as you are sheltered?" the ginger-haired man commented, entirely unruffled by the accusations – and glares – being leveled at him by Chrom and Frederick. "What about 'I'm not here to hurt anyone' is so hard to understand?"

Robin held up a hand before either Chrom or Frederick could open their mouths.

"Enlighten me, then," the tactician said, giving the prince and his knight a meaningful glare that clearly said 'Back off, let me handle this'. "State your business here, and know that your truthfulness will go a long way towards what happens to you once everything settles down."

The ginger-haired man raised an eyebrow appraisingly, before a curious, lopsided grin twisted his lips.

"Huh. Glad to know _someone_ here knows how to be rational," he said. "The name's Gaius. I specialize in… well, let's call it 'acquisitions'. Information, goods… anything locked behind closed doors, really."

Robin wrinkled his nose in distaste. "You're a thief."

Gaius had the gall to look insulted. "For the record, Bubbles, I don't ever take more than what I need to get by every day," he defended himself.

_'__Bubbles…?' _Robin thought to himself, wondering where in Naga's name Gaius had managed to come up with _that _nickname. _'I mean, Blue for Chrom I can understand… but _Bubbles_?!'_

The tactician was so focused on trying to figure out how and why the ginger-haired thief had decided to christen him _Bubbles_ that he very nearly missed the rest of his statement.

"This lot said they wanted to break into some vault, which is right up my alley and why I agreed to this," Gaius continued, before his expression darkened. "Nobody mentioned anything to me about murdering the Exalt, and, while I'd swipe something from her pocket in a heartbeat if it'd feed me for a day or two, I'd much rather break contract than try to kill someone as sweet as her."

Robin cupped his chin in thought, gears turning in his mind as an outrageous idea began to present itself.

"Hmm… how willing are you to prove your words?" he asked.

His words prompted everyone to look at him with varying expressions: curiosity in the case of Emmeryn, Lucina, and the mystery knight, confusion in the case of Chrom and Gaius, and barely concealed displeasure in the case of Frederick.

"I beg your pardon?" were the words that immediately left Gaius' mouth.

Robin quite expected that reaction, although it wasn't quite as expected as the explosion from Sir Frederick the Wary.

"Sir Tactician, you can't possibly be suggesting that we–"

Robin gave Frederick a dismissive glance, enough for him to say "I am" before returning his attention to Gaius.

"You heard me," the tactician said. "We can use any help we can get in saving Her Grace's life, whether it be through another set of able hands or information you can give us on our enemies. So… let me ask you again: How willing are you to prove your words? Will you walk the walk?"

Gaius shrugged easily. "Bubbles, if you're asking if I'd be willing to help you and yours, you could have just said it straight up," he replied. "Of course I'm willing; it's a better alternative to siding with people who'd want to kill the Exalt."

Robin felt a smirk begin to tug at his lips. "Good, then–"

"… Of course, you'll have to sweeten the deal if you want me to work."

Robin's jaw shot open. _'Oh, hell's fire, are you _serious_?'_

Gaius cracked a smile. "What's with the look, Bubbles?" he asked teasingly. "You should have seen this coming. I _side_ with people out of the goodness of my heart, sure, but that doesn't mean I'll work for free."

_'__I hate you, Gaius. I _really _hate you right now.'_

"You scoundrel…" Chrom growled from next to Robin, his hand fumbling at his belt for the gold pouch he always kept on his person. "Fine, if you want gold, then gold you'll–!"

In the process, the pouch of candies that he'd received from Lissa through Robin came loose from its hook and hit the ground.

"Heh, sounds like you dropped… some… thing…" Gaius trailed off as he spied the pouch's contents, exposed as they were by the string holding the mouth closed coming loose.

The thief's eyes widened, his gaze snapping up to Chrom.

"Blue… are these… _candies_?" he asked, his voice shaking with what Robin could only describe as anticipation.

Chrom, bewildered by the change in reaction, nodded. "Yes, but…"

"_SOLD_," Gaius said hurriedly as he _immediately _scooped up the pouch of candies and popped several pieces into his mouth. "You have yourself a deal."

Robin blinked. "You… you can't be serious…"

Chrom was no better, staring at Gaius as the man happily chewed away at the sugary treats.

"You'll… risk your life… over _candy_?" the prince asked in genuine bemusement.

Gaius shrugged. "I said '_sweeten the deal_', didn't I?" he asked rhetorically.

Emmeryn, who'd thus far remained silent while Chrom and Robin did much of the talking, let out a soft chuckle.

"He did indeed," she commented, and had she not been the Exalt Robin would have been more than half-tempted to direct a scathing glare in her direction.

_'__Exalt, please…'_

Gaius cracked his neck. "Hey, don't get me wrong, I'll take the gold, too," he said, pausing in thought for a moment before adding "Unless you've got more of these."

The ginger-haired thief leaned in closer to Chrom. "_Do_ you have more of these?"

Had he not had the mental discipline he did, Robin was quite sure he would have been floored by now.

_'__He… he's really serious about this… he's actually going to fight for_ candy_!'_

Based on the utter confusion etched on Chrom's face, the prince wasn't exactly doing much better.

"Um, I'll… be sure to ask Lissa later," he said, looking at Robin and silently asking for help.

The tactician would have been more than happy to leave the prince with the eccentric sugar-happy thief, but the sounds of fighting from the lower floors reminded him of the job he – they, actually – still had to do tonight.

"Alright, that's enough mucking around," he said, his voice taking on a more stern and commanding tone that caught even Gaius' attention.

With everyone's eyes and ears on him, Robin began to feel that familiar sense of unease building in his gut again, but he forced the butterflies down through sheer force of will.

"Chrom," he began, the blue-haired prince perking up at the sound of his name. "When we're done here, take Frederick with you and get down there to the lower floors. If the palace guards are engaging more intruders, they'll certainly need some direction and a morale boost, and your presence will go a long way towards that."

Without waiting for the other man to acknowledge his orders Robin turned to the stoic myrmidon standing next to him, the man straightening ever so slightly as he came under the tactician's scrutiny.

"Lon'qu, I want you to go and find Lissa," he instructed the Feroxi swordfighter. "Get her to a more secure position, and if that means you have to keep her with the rest of the Shepherds, that's fine by me. Just make sure she's up and moving and _not_ stuck in an obvious location like her room – it's on the opposite end of the wing one floor down, if you need to know. Haul her out of her bed if you have to."

The myrmidon nodded… a little stiffly, Robin noticed, but he washed that unimportant detail from his mind as the Feroxi swordsman turned to leave and accomplish his task.

Lon'qu's orders given, Robin then turned his attention to the two cerulean-haired swordsmen standing near the back of their little group.

"So, Marth, and… um…" Robin trailed off, suddenly realizing he was at a total loss for a name to pin to the face.

The young man blinked once, slowly, before his lips moved in a syllable Robin would probably not forget for a long while.

"Kris."

* * *

"… You may call me Kris," Leon added, and it took Lucina a fair amount of her willpower not to react at the name choice.

_'__Brother…'_

Robin, too, seemed just as taken aback as Lucina was, though whether it was because he noticed the name's connection to her own false identity she couldn't tell.

"Right… Kris, then," the tactician parroted, although Lucina could easily see the questioning look in his hazel eyes. "If you're willing to listen to my orders…"

Leon shook his head gently. "Worry not, Sire," he replied softly. "So long as Marth aids you, then I too shall do the same. Please… guide my blade."

Robin blinked. "Um… right!" he said. "In that case, can I entrust the Exalt's safety to you two?"

Lucina watched as Chrom whipped about to stare at the tactician with wide eyes that looked ready to pop out of their sockets.

"Robin?!" he asked, and Lucina had to consciously stop her lips from turning upwards at the slowly-growing stress evident in the prince's voice and face.

For his part, Robin merely sighed and ran a hand through his snow-white hair.

"Before you ask, yes, I _am_ serious," the tactician said. "Remember, Marth was walking all over you for most of that duel you had in Arena Ferox. If Kris here is anywhere near that same level, then that puts the two of them miles ahead of any of us in terms of fighting skill. If we can trust anyone to keep the Exalt safe, I'd be willing to put my bets on them."

The corners of his lips quirked upwards in a smile. "Besides, for all that she refuses to tell us things we'd probably be better off knowing in the long run, Marth's not given me – not given _us_ – a reason to distrust her. I mean, let's not go too far back – she _did_ save you and me from those assassins earlier in the gardens."

Lucina's heart thumped happily at the continued show of trust and faith Robin was giving her.

_'__Sir Robin…'_

Chrom frowned deeply. "Look, Robin, I know you must ha–"

"Very well, Sir Robin," Emmeryn suddenly cut in. "I will trust your judgement."

Chrom nodded vigorously. "Yeah, see?! Emmeryn gets i– wait, _what_?!"

Emmeryn glanced at her younger brother. "You cannot tell me that Tactician Robin's logic is not sound, Chrom," she said. "He is right in saying that we require a commanding presence where the fighting is taking place, which means that is where you must be. And, what Tactician Robin has mentioned about the happenings in Ferox aside, I was able to witness Lady Marth's and Sir Kris' skills with the blade… which I must say are certainly not inconsiderable."

Chrom ground his teeth together in obvious displeasure, but he managed a terse nod to indicate he'd go along with it.

Robin, too, nodded, before he turned his attention to Lucina.

"Are you alright with this arrangement?" he asked.

Lucina couldn't quite help the frown that crossed her lips. "Not quite," she said. "I want to know what you will be doing."

Frederick nodded. "Indeed. I, too, wish to know what you are going to attempt to do in the meantime if you will not be coming with Milord and myself."

Robin sucked in a breath, and Lucina immediately knew this wasn't entirely going to go over well with everyone else.

"I'm taking Gaius with me, and we're going to go after the assassins' leader."

As expected, Chrom just about exploded. "No! Absolutely not!" he all but shouted. "I'm willing to trust you with Marth protecting Emm, but _this _is just stretching things too far, Robin! I'm not letting you go off like that without any of us backing you up! And _especially _not with a money-grubbing thief we can't trust!"

Lucina grimaced. This had the makings of a nasty argument if someone couldn't calm the prince down, and they lacked the time to spend arguing on anything.

"Chrom," Robin said simply. It was said evenly, without any real inflection that could clue anyone into what sort of thoughts were running behind the tactician's hazel eyes… and that in itself was what made that short statement – a mere call of the prince's name – so striking. The tactician spoke with such a level, grounded tone – a tone that was clearly reflected physically in his schooled features – that it seemed to carry more weight _because_ of how understated he was.

Said tone was, incidentally, what managed to grab Chrom's attention and defuse his growing anger before it could explode in everyone's faces.

"R-Robin?"

The tactician sighed. "Are we calmer now?" he asked.

Chrom blinked, and then suddenly seemed to realize what it was Robin was referring to.

"A-ah… right… yeah," the prince hurriedly said. "Sorry, I lost my head there for a moment."

_'__Clearly.'_

Robin shook his head. "Don't worry about it," he said, waving it aside like it was nothing. "Anyway, as much as you might not like it, this is the best way to do things. The sooner we take out their leader, the quicker the enemy loses direction and cohesion, and the faster we can rout them. It's our best chance at victory tonight."

Lucina watched as Chrom stared at Robin, who calmly met the prince's searching gaze with his own even one.

After a few tense moments, the prince sighed and relented.

"Alright, I can see you're not going to be swayed," he said. "Just be careful, alright?"

Chrom then directed a rather meaningful glare at Gaius. "And you, Gaius. I certainly hope you've some honor in you, or there'll be hell to pay."

The thief shrugged. "Blue, just because I'm a thief doesn't mean I don't have morals. When I said I wouldn't want to harm the Exalt, I meant it, and I'm not about to kill someone who just gave me some candy, either."

Robin couldn't help the smirk that crossed his features. "See? I'll be fine," he said. "All it takes is a promise of sugar and we're good. He'll be easy to keep under control."

_'__Sir Robin, you _do _realize he's still right there, don't you…?' _Lucina thought, the question almost _begging _for her to ask it for real.

Chrom still looked unconvinced, but if he had something he wanted to say he was doing a _very_ good job of keeping it to himself.

Robin nodded. "Right, then. If no one else has any questions, concerns, or objections, then I suppose we should all get going. The enemy isn't going to be waiting around for us to start moving."

As if to punctuate the tactician's statement, a crash from down below reached their ears up on the third story of the royal apartment wing.

"Like I said," he added, although there was no longer any amusement lingering in his expression.

Lucina nodded, and made to turn towards Leon and the Exalt, but a sudden warmth coming from her right hand made her look down…

… only to let out a gasp of surprise as she spotted a faint blue light emanating from the hollowed-out teardrop-shaped hole in the middle of her sword's guard.

Leon turned to face her fully. "Lucina? What's wrong?" he murmured lowly, his voice low enough that she was probably the only one who would be able to hear her clearly.

"Brother… it's Falchion…" she answered back just as quietly. "It's… it's gleaming…"

Her brother's brows furrowed in thought. "Gleaming…?"

Before Lucina could reply, another voice cut in – one the cerulean-haired girl admitted she could probably do without right now.

"Marth?" Chrom asked, clearly having heard her mutter something that caught his attention. "Is something the matter?"

_'__He might have heard something that sounded quite similar to 'Falchion'…'_ Lucina thought as she cursed herself for the carelessness of her comment. _'Damn it, this isn't something he needs to be able to know about right now.'_

She quickly shook her head in dismissal. "No, it's nothing," she replied, sounding a little more hurried than she might have wanted. "You need not concern yourself over it."

The prince's brows furrowed as a displeased frown crossed his lips. "It seems like _everything_ is something I shouldn't concern myself over when it comes to you. Will you ever give me a straight answer?"

A pang of guilt shot through Lucina's heart, prompting her to look away as she bit her lip.

"My… my apologies…" she whispered.

Chrom hesitated for a moment, almost as if whatever it was he'd planned to say died before he could say it, before he let out a reluctant sigh – yet another one, Lucina realized; it must have been quite the night for them – and gave a small shake of the head.

"Don't be, you did nothing wrong," he said tiredly. "If anything, I'm the one who should apologize. I didn't mean to be so accusatory. I just… I really wish I knew more than I did about what was going on."

_'__Believe me when I say I wish I could say more than I've been able to.'_

Lucina swallowed against the lump rising against her throat. "No, it's quite alright… you have every reason to be distrustful of me for everything I refuse to say. Do not trouble yourself over how your distrust might make me feel."

Chrom had no reply to that, instead looking decidedly uncomfortable before he turned away.

"Please watch over my sister, Marth," he said simply. "We'll handle the rest."

Lucina nodded. "Of course…" she murmured, grimacing as she watched the prince turn and begin to walk down the hallway, Frederick, Robin, and the thief Gaius turning to follow.

"Chrom, please… if the situation turns unfavorable… you must flee," Emmeryn tried to plead one last time, causing Chrom to stop and turn back to face her. "You all only have one life, and I do not wish any of them be weighed against mine."

The prince simply shook his head. "I'm sorry, Emm, but I can't do that," he replied. "You may not realize it, but Ylisse needs you. Lissa needs you. _I _need you. We'd all be lost without you to guide us."

Emmeryn could only frown as her brother turned away once more, before another voice cut in from _behind_ Lucina.

"I knew there was wisdom in slipping in with those rogues. As expected, you man-spawn claw at each other like savages."

The cerulean-haired girl stiffened in reflex as Chrom and Emmeryn whipped about, the former of the two royal siblings with his sword drawn.

There, standing in the middle of the hallway almost without a care in the world, was a woman who would have appeared perfectly normal by Feroxi standards – tanned skin, hard lines, toned muscles, and the like – were a pair of human-scaled _rabbit ears_ not poking out the top of her mane of long, dark hair and flopping down almost comically on either side of her face. Adding to the appearance of her _not_ being wholly human were patches of similarly dark fur encircling her wrists and waist like a pair of wristbands and undergarments. Even her choice of wardrobe would leave many people wondering as to her origins, as she was clad in purple leather armor that covered most of her torso and legs while leaving her feet and the entirety of thigh, lower belly, and waist entirely exposed.

All in all, she was a _very_ odd sight, even by the same Feroxi standards that would have declared her an attractive woman, and in this night of stressful situations it was only one other unneeded surprise… not that it surprised Lucina a great deal in the first place.

Chrom, however, was an entirely different story, and he rushed to place himself between Emmeryn and the beastkin. "Another assassin?!" he asked.

The woman's dark eyes narrowed in displeasure at Chrom's hostility, only for them to just as quickly widen as Lucina moved to place herself between the two.

"Hold, Prince Chrom," she said. "Lady Panne is not your enemy."

Chrom frowned, a flicker of doubt flashing across his features, but he _did _lower his sword regardless.

_'__I suppose he still holds _some _semblance of faith in me, cryptic as I've been…'_ Lucina thought to herself rather wryly.

The prince placed his free hand on his hip. "I suppose you know her, Marth?"

"If she _does_, the reverse is definitely not the case," Panne said from behind Lucina, her voice smooth and silky had it not been hardened by distrust. "Tell me, man-spawn. How do you know my name?"

Lucina licked her suddenly dry lips as she turned so she could acknowledge Panne while still conversing with Chrom.

"I know… of her…" she said, the pause she took not helping her appear entirely too convincing as she answered the Ylissean Prince's query with what she quickly realized was yet _another_ cryptic reply. "I also knew she would be here tonight to aid your cause."

Chrom raised an eyebrow at that, but it was Robin who spoke up in response.

"Well, you're quite the prophet, now, aren't you?" he asked meaningfully, the hinting tone matched by an almost-knowing gleam in his eye. "It makes me wonder how you happen to know all these little things before they're meant to happen…"

Lucina felt her blood turn to ice._ 'Does he know?!' _she thought in barely-controlled panic.

The cerulean-haired girl allowed – forced, really – the corners of her lips to turn up in a wry smile that she hoped appeared convincing enough to not be seen through.

"Perhaps I am," she replied casually, hoping she could deflect the veiled accusation hiding within the tactician's casual words. "But that does not change the fact that Lady Panne is an ally. This much, I swear to you."

Robin chuckled. "Like you and your friend here are?" he asked rhetorically, his eyes boring into Lucina's meaningfully and almost forcing the cerulean-haired girl to look away lest she give anything more away than she already had.

By the mercy of Naga, though, Robin for whatever reason seemed to be satisfied with what he saw as he relented and allowed a smile to cross his lips.

"Well, if you say she is, then I guess that should be good enough for me," the tactician said easily, hazel eyes twinkling with as he nudged Chrom in the side. "Right, Chrom?"

The prince shrugged. "To be perfectly honest, I'd rather Marth didn't keep dodging so many of these questions I'm burning to have answered," he replied. "It's not exactly given me the best of impressions… not that it's gotten any better with her introducing me to her mask quite intimately back in Arena Ferox."

Lucina looked away, guilt bubbling up within her as Chrom reminded her of her loss of self-control.

"But you're right, Robin, her word _is_ good enough. So long as she helps us, I suppose we can just leave her be."

The cerulean-haired girl's eyes widened and she lifted her eyes up to look at Chrom in utter surprise.

At his shoulder, Frederick was much the same. "Milord? Are you certain?"

Chrom shrugged again. "She enjoys her secrets, but I think she's earned the right to keep them," he replied. "Just look at how many times she's saved us from danger. I would think that speaks well for her intentions."

Lucina couldn't help but allow her lips to curve upwards in a tiny smile. "Prince Chrom… thank you."

The prince shook his head. "No, thank _you_, for all the times you've helped us out," he said, before another crash from below reminded him that they still had things they needed to be doing instead of standing around talking.

Chrom turned to regard the group as a whole, his expression grim.

"Right, I suppose we should get to the matter at hand: driving these scoundrels from the castle," he said, before he focused his attention on the enigmatic half-human standing a short distance away. "Lady Panne, if you would assist us in protecting the Exalt, I'll see to it that you are rewarded greatly for your efforts."

Panne snorted in half-amusement, half-disdain. "You may keep whatever reward you had in mind, man-spawn," she said. "As much as I abhor the idea of aiding humans, I must repay my warren's debt of honor to your Exalt. Trust me when I say our association will only go as far as that."

Chrom seemed taken aback by Panne's blunt, barely-veiled hostility, but he couldn't even get another word in before she'd turned and stalked off into the shadowy corridors.

The prince sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "Well… I suppose we should all do what she did and get going," he commented.

"Just be sure to do as I've instructed," Robin added, before the group began to disperse.

However, Lucina noticed that the tactician lingered for several moments, his hazel-eyed gaze seeming to make sure that everyone was moving as discussed… but she knew better. The tactician's gaze was searching… searching for her own, and those hazel eyes of his just seemed to _light up_ when they found her own sapphire.

Judging from the look on Robin's face, he had many words that wanted to be said, but Lucina knew that he couldn't quite risk any sort of connection being drawn between them, _especially_ given what he already knew from their prior encounters in Arena Ferox.

So he did the one thing he _could _do, and settled for simply letting his eyes do the talking for him.

_'__We'll talk later,'_ she could almost imagine his eyes saying, and she had a feeling her own eyes were saying much the same thing.

Then the fleeting moment was gone, and the tactician's expression had returned to one of pure focus as he turned away and headed off together with the ginger-haired thief Gaius in search of the enemy commander.

Chrom and Frederick quickly followed suit and headed off to join the battle downstairs, leaving Lucina alone with Exalt Emmeryn.

_'__No, not alone…'_ she chided herself as she turned to face Leon, her lips curling upwards in a barely restrained smile as she finally took the time to drink in his sorely-missed appearance. His expression was as cool as it always was… although the twinkle in his eyes let her know that there were emotions he definitely wished to express but was holding back due to the current situation.

Leon offered her a nod, his lips ever so slightly lifting upwards in the most minute of smiles, before he turned to face the Exalt, who was gazing at them with an expression that was equal parts patient and curious.

_'__If anything, she might have been noticing some of the subtle gestures and looks,' _Lucina thought to herself._ 'But… surely she can't infer a great deal from them even if she _did _notice them… can she?'_

Her brother and Emmeryn exchanging words snapped her from her internal monologue, and once again the cerulean-haired girl chastised herself for losing herself within her own thoughts.

" –nderstand you are a capable wielder of magic, Milady, but might I suggest you return within the sanctuary of your quarters?" he asked softly. "While Marth and I may be confident in our skills, it would ease our fears for your safety if we could eliminate the number of avenues of attack available to those who seek to harm you."

Emmeryn nodded. "Of course," she agreed. "But do not think that you two are going to be forced to stand alone should the enemy come. I will aid you if need be."

Leon blinked, surprise clearly etched on his features – surprise that Lucina herself felt at the Exalt's words.

"Your Grace, but that's…"

Emmeryn shook her head. "There will be no arguing the point," she replied, tone still gentle and yet carrying with it steely undertones that, as she had just stated, would brook no arguments. "While I detest fighting and warfare, I will not stand by and simply watch others risk their lives when I can be doing something to aid them."

Leon threw a quick glance Lucina's way, and, while he kept any distress from his expression, the look in his eyes made it very clear he was torn between acquiescing to the Exalt's wishes or fully respecting Chrom and Robin's orders to keep her safe regardless of what the Exalt herself might have wanted.

The cerulean-haired girl gave Leon a slight shrug, the white-clad knight sighing in an obvious sign of resignation before turning back to face Emmeryn, who stood waiting patiently through the entirety of their short exchange.

Leon grimaced in clear displeasure, before his expression gave way to another sigh.

"… I understand, Your Grace," he replied in reluctant acceptance of the situation at hand. "But, rest assured, we will still do our utmost to ensure you do not have to make any such efforts that will go against your beliefs."

The Exalt nodded. "I am glad we understand each other," she replied, a sense of satisfied accomplishment lacing her words as she turned and beckoned the pair towards her quarters. "Now, come along. Even if we must remain alert, I wish to use the time we have now to speak. I would like to know a little bit more about my brother's mysterious helpers beyond just their names and their appearances, and something tells me that you may be a fair bit more forthcoming with answers without my brother around."

Emmeryn gave a kind and serene smile then, and Lucina couldn't shake the feeling that the Exalt's smile hid the fact that she knew _far_ more than the cerulean-haired girl would ever be comfortable with her knowing.

_'__Like your brand…' _a traitorous voice residing in the dark shadowy corners of her mind whispered delicately, nearly making Lucina freeze up as the thought of the Exalt discovering _that _particular fact filled her veins with ice.

Her heritage couldn't be discovered. It just couldn't.

She stood to lose everything – and so did they – if that knowledge ever got out.

* * *

_'__It looks like Chrom has everything under control…' _Robin thought as he followed Gaius through the shadows of the palace's corridors.

He and Gaius were taking a more roundabout route through the palace that skirted around where most of the fighting was taking place, avoiding contact with the enemy without sacrificing too much time as they made their way towards where the ginger-haired thief had said they'd infiltrated the palace.

Hardly any enemy commanders ever took to the front themselves; if the leader of this lot was like any other, then he'd probably be waiting at their staging area until his subordinates brought word of the Exalt's demise.

"Not if _I _have anything to say about it…" he growled under his breath.

Gaius tossed the white-haired tactician a quick glance over his shoulder. "You say something, Bubbles?" the thief asked.

Robin shook his head. "Nothing you need to hear or worry about," he assured Gaius as they continued to glide down the hallway towards the gardens. "Are we close?"

"Yeah, just a little bit more to go," the ginger-haired thief replied. "What's the plan when we get there?"

The tactician frowned as they approached the garden area. "Well, I was hoping you'd–"

He suddenly stopped talking, his hazel eyes widening as a – familiar – feeling of dread washed over him and his mage's sense picked out a particularly strong presence.

_'__What is… this…'_

Acting on instinct, the tactician reached out and grabbed Gaius' cloak, pulling the thief back with him behind a pillar.

"Bubbles! What gives?!" the thief whispered harshly, his green eyes directing a rather uncharacteristic glare towards the white-haired tactician.

Gaius' words flew right over Robin's head, the tactician swallowing the lump that formed in his throat as the source of the malevolence seemed to draw closer.

_'__Why… why do I recognize such a horrible feeling…?'_

Almost against his better judgement, Robin risked a small peek from behind the pillar.

What he saw solidified an icy block in his gut.

Standing in the center of the corridor, almost without a care in the world, was a tall, lanky man with ebony hair and dark, gray skin that sent Robin's blood curdling. His face was long and features gaunt, his sunken eyes shadowed by what Robin somehow knew to be makeup rather than just simply the shadow cast by his prominent brow. The man's high hairline led back to wild, shockingly unkempt hair that splayed out up and to the back of his head, while a thin moustache and long goatee framed a pronounced jaw and a mouth set in a malicious grin that Robin eerily found all-too-familiar.

While the man's face and features struck a resonant chord of familiarity within the white-haired tactician, that wasn't quite what had his rapt and near-undivided attention.

What _did _was the dark man's clothing – assorted robes of blacks and purples punctuated with gold lining, armor pieces, and jewelry that indicated he was someone of status and which reminded Robin not just of Aversa but of someone _much _closer to home.

The tactician risked a glance at his sleeve to confirm the horrible truth that had already dawned on him, his stomach plummeting as he eyed the similar black cloth, vibrant purple patterns, and gold lining of his coat.

Robin pulled back and turned to Gaius, whose earlier ire had subsided in favor of an odd curiosity.

"Is… is that him?" the tactician asked the thief shakily. "Their leader?"

Gaius peeked out for a moment before quickly drawing back, face pale as he wordlessly nodded his affirmation to the tactician.

Robin bit back a vicious curse as his mind began racing for a new plan of action.

"Alright, change of plan," he whispered, licking his dry lips to wet them. "Double back and get help. I'll stall him for as long as possible."

Gaius' eyes widened. "Bubbles, are you _mad_?! Just _look _at that guy! I may not be one of you seasoned warrior types, but we street scoundrels still have some pretty good survival instincts, and all of mine have been telling me he's bad news ever since I first saw him!"

Robin shook his head. "That's exactly why we can't risk him getting any closer to the Exalt," he replied coolly. "It's reckless of me, yes, but I don't think we have any other alternative. Besides, I can hopefully buy enough time for you to get back with help."

The thief's jaw worked as he seemed to consider the tactician's words.

"… Alright, I'll do as you say," he replied after only a few moments of thought. "But I certainly hope you know what you're doing, Bubbles."

Despite himself, Robin chuckled. "Believe me, I do, too."

Gaius nodded. "Good luck, Bubbles. Don't die before I get back here with help," the thief said before he turned and slunk back into the shadows.

Robin watched him disappear and let out a short bark of laughter. _'For all his talk of being a rogue who steals for a living, either he's got a surprisingly kind heart… or is an incredible actor who's just led me to my potential doom.'_

Shrugging the thought aside and steeling himself for combat, Robin brought out his tome and flicked it open, whispers of mana beginning to flicker about his free hand as he whispered the incantations for a spell.

_'__I need to strike fast…'_

Spell primed, the tactician rolled out from his hiding place and held his hand out, a faint green light floating within his 'grip'.

_'__Elwind!' _he thought – unable to verbalize the spell's name lest he risk the element of surprise – as the light in his hand erupted into a blade of wind that raced in at the dark man.

Robin held his breath in the few seconds between when he fired off his spell and when the spell reached its target…

… Only for him to be thoroughly disappointed as a wall of purple flame – doubtlessly the product of dark magic, Robin quickly analyzed – erupted from a magic circle on the ground, consuming his wind spell in an instant.

"Hmph, did you think I did not sense the magic flowing through your body?" the newly-identified sorcerer asked as he turned to face the white-haired tactician, peering at him with hooded, blood-red eyes that seemed to emanate some sort of unnatural pressure that had Robin's nerves screaming at him to flee.

Initially disdainful, the dark man's heavy gaze suddenly gave way to one of recognition as his lips twisted into an unnerving smirk that made Robin's blood run cold.

"Well, well…" he commented in a deep voice before he erupted into dark, amused laughter. "Hahaha! Oh, I know you…"

Robin's eyes widened in shock. _'What…?'_

"Who are you?!" he snarled angrily, his shock quickly giving way to anger. "Do you really know me? How?!"

The sorcerer's grin grew even wider. "Oh, yes, I certainly do!" he replied, seeming almost gleeful with how he was taunting the tactician with information that was just out of reach. "Submit yourself to me, and perhaps I might honor you with the truth, boy!"

Robin's only reply was another spell – this time a fire spell – that the dark man easily consumed with the same barrier of dark flame from earlier.

The tactician grit his teeth as the flames receded once again, revealing the sorcerer unharmed and unmoved. His expression had soured, his grin morphing into an angry scowl.

"Impudent boy," he growled. "I _do_ need you alive, but that does not mean I can't instill some _discipline _in you before you are returned to where you belong."

Robin narrowed his eyes. "Just try it!"

The sorcerer had an ugly look of angry displeasure on his face as he threw his hand forward, sending a stream of dark flames rushing at Robin. The tactician dove to the right, continuing it into a roll and coming up onto one knee as he unleashed his own spell. Golden bolts of lightning erupted outward from his hand and streaked in towards the sorcerer, who with the simple flick of a wrist raised his barrier of flames to once again absorb the incoming attack.

_'__Wait, what?'_

The dark flames once again prevented Robin's spell from reaching the sorcerer, but he quickly noticed that his lightning spell – unlike his earlier wind spell – wasn't immediately consumed by the sorcerer's flame barrier. The golden bolts slammed into the flame barrier, crackling and arcing over the wall of dark flames as it attempted to force its way past the flames before finally dissipating.

_'__That's interesting… but why is it…?'_

Robin didn't have much time to ponder _that _observation before he was moving once again as several fire spells were thrown at him in quick succession from behind the sorcerer's barrier.

"Damn it!" he cursed as he ducked and weaved through the relentless barrage of spells before a blast of flame erupted in front of him, forcing him to double back and seek shelter behind one of the corridor's pillars. Dark flames struck at the pillar, quickly beginning to eat away at it as the tactician struggled to find a way out of this mess.

As if sensing his distress, the pages of his tome flipped rapidly until they settled on a new page. Understanding of the runes etched within it filled Robin's mind, and with that understanding came a near-automatic reaction as he turned to place his free hand against the pillar.

Closing his eyes, Robin faintly muttered a quick incantation, pouring mana into the pillar and strengthening it against magical attacks as another wave of fire slammed into the pillar.

Much to the tactician's relief, his simple warding spell seemed to have done the trick… for now, at least.

_'__Huh… that was easier than I thought, given that the warding spell is normally channeled through a staff…'_

His brow furrowed in thought as the contents of his own mental statement registered in the conscious portion of his mind.

_'__… __More importantly, what in Naga's name is a warding spell?'_

A fireball slammed into the pillar, making the tactician wince as the warded structure shook from the force of the spell's impact.

Robin shook his head. _'We can worry about figuring that out later,' _he thought as he checked what little field of vision he had while hiding behind the pillar – that is to say, not much at all.

He couldn't see the sorcerer, but he could certainly hear him well enough to detect the sneer in his voice.

"Hmph! Forced into hiding already?" the dark man taunted, his words laced with barely-veiled contempt. "It appears your challenge was nothing more than empty bravado."

Robin bristled at the sorcerer's words, but repeatedly reminded himself to keep his head. Losing his cool would be playing right into the dark man's hands, something he could ill afford given the distinct disadvantage he already found himself at.

_'__What can I do, though…' _Robin wondered as he took stock of his situation. As he moved, a weight swinging at his waist reminded him that he still had his sword strapped to his belt.

Looking down at the weapon, the tactician took on a thoughtful expression as the beginnings of an idea began to form in his mind.

Sorcerers were among the trickiest opponents to fight, and it wasn't simply due to their unique mastery of the formidable dark arts. Being highly-skilled practitioners of ancient magics – particularly curses and hexes – they tended to possess knowledge of enchantments that could be applied on clothing the same way Robin himself had applied a warding spell on the pillar he was currently using as cover… except these were much more long-lasting, and were equally suited to defending from both physical and magical attacks.

It was something the tactician was intimately familiar with given…

Robin's mind nearly froze as the rest of the thought solidified in his mind.

_'__…_ _given the fact that my own coat carries similar enchantments…'_

He swallowed thickly. The similarity could have simply been entirely by cance. Had it been any other situation, he very well may have just figured that someone had his coat enchanted by a dark mage so he could be better protected in whatever it was he did.

But there were just too many things that his body and mind instinctively recognized and knew for it to simply be that.

The recognition shown by both the dark man he was fighting _and _the Mad King's adviser, Aversa.

The markings, colors, and patterns his own coat compared to that of the clothing worn by both Aversa and the dark man.

His instinctive knowledge of a sorcerer's curses and hexes and how they were used to strengthen clothing.

Had it just been one of them, he would have passed off as mere chance. Two, he would have said it was but a coincidence.

But three times? That… _that _was a pattern.

Robin felt ill at thought that he in his previous life might actually possess some links to a darker part of Plegia he'd rather not think about… but the signs were all there.

It couldn't just be paranoia on his part or his mind playing tricks on him. Everything – including the possibility of his origins – was far too _real_.

_'__Stop it!' _he screamed at himself as he shook his head violently, clearing the traitorous sentiments from his mind. _'Focus! You have people counting on you right now!'_

Equal parts determination and desperation managed to sharpen the tactician's mind as he refocused his thoughts on finding a way out of his predicament.

_'__Trying to attack with magic seems to be pointless with that barrier of his, so I'll have to use my sword… but how can I…'_

His eyes widened as a sudden realization crossed his mind.

_'__Hold on…' _

His thoughts quickly turned towards his earlier exchanges of spells with the sorcerer, and quick observations on the dark man's spells – observations he'd not thought much of earlier – began to expand into the beginnings of what he quickly recognized was a foolhardy plan.

"But… maybe foolhardiness is what's needed to tip the scales back in my favor…"

Robin's hand released his tome, the book falling to the ground as the tactician reached down and unsheathed the sword from its place at his waist. Gripping the blade tightly in his dominant hand, the tactician took a deep breath and allowed his mana to flow into his empty left hand.

_'__Here goes nothing…' _he thought, before he quickly dove out from behind the pillar and rapidly charged and fired as many Thunder spells as he could at the sorcerer, who seemed almost surprised to see the tactician go on the offensive with tactics that had already been proven to not work.

As expected, Robin's barrage magical attacks were repelled by the barrier of dark flames… but that was exactly as he'd expected, and well within the quick calculations he'd done for his attack strategy.

Robin smiled grimly as he raised his hand back and charged up another spell, the green glow of wind-based mana focusing itself as a ball of energy in the palm of his hand.

Just because magic couldn't be used to deal damage didn't mean magic was going to be entirely useless in this scenario.

The barrier began to lower, and Robin quickly saw his chance.

_'__Now!' _he thought as he took a running leap forward, releasing the accumulated mana in his hand and propelling himself forward through the air using the wind spell's knockback.

Before the sorcerer could even raise his hand or begin incantations, Robin was already well within the charred ring that indicated where the dark man's barrier sprouted to life.

Robin drew his sword back and thrust it forward for the sorcerer's heart. His perception of time seemed to slow down as his weapon eliminated the gap between itself and the sorcerer's chest… but it was in those few fractions of a second when the tactician saw the dark man's lips curl up into sinister grin.

The dark man's other hand came up, dark energies crackling in his palm, and Robin's eyes widened as he realized that he'd grossly underestimated the man's spellcasting speed and mental multitasking capabilities.

_'__Oh, shi–!'_

The dark fire spell detonated in Robin's face, the sleeves of his magically-enhanced coat the only things that kept him from being incinerated as he threw his arms up protectively before his head. The force of the blast launched Robin back the way he came, sending him flying right into the pillar he'd used as cover.

The tactician hit the structure back first with a sickening crack, his coat once again the only thing probably saving him from a more severe injury, before he slid down to land in a crumpled heap at its base.

Despite the pain flaring throughout his body both front and back, Robin still tried to rise to his feet as the sorcerer approached to stand over him.

"You are quite the disappointment, boy. I expected much, _much _more from you," the sorcerer said as his tall form loomed over the tactician. "… Although I will at least commend you and your merry band of fools for being a thorn in my side up to this point. The Exalt was supposed to be an easy target, but you and your merry band have certainly proven to be quite the nuisance for interfering in my designs to the extent that you have."

The sorcerer's right hand came up, another spell flickering to life as he cradled it in his palm. "But, your playtime is over, and I shall be having back that which belongs to me."

He raised his hand, dark energy crackling within, and Robin shut his eyes as he tensed for the pain that was sure to come.

Before he could release the spell, the sorcerer's torso suddenly jerked forward as the sound of sharp steel piercing flesh reached Robin's ears. The dark man looked down, Robin opening his eyes and following the man's gaze with his own before stopping at the sight a familiar sword of gleaming silver-white and gold that had run the dark man through from behind.

The dark man looked over his shoulder at the same time Robin did: Lucina stood behind the sorcerer, her cerulean blue eyes more tired than ever but shining so brightly with determination that Robin could have sworn the left eye that held her Mark of Naga was alight with blue flames.

"No… this is… all… wrong…" he gasped out as Lucina pulled her blade out from the man's body, making him stumble forward. "How could… you have known the plan…"

Using what little strength was left in his gravely injured body, the sorcerer raised a hand and opened a portal before him with a shaky flick of the wrist before falling through it.

"Dastard…" Lucina bit out lowly, although whatever hostility she had in her vanished when she lay her eyes upon the downed tactician.

She was on her knees next to him in an instant, her Falchion forgotten as it slipped from her fingers to clatter to the ground next to her.

"Sir Robin! Are you alright?" she asked, the concern all-too-evident in her words and in her expressive sapphire-like eyes as she examined him for injuries.

Robin tried to lift himself up, but another flash of pain made him decide staying where he was would be a better alternative for the time being.

"… Well, a lot of things hurt…" he mumbled, groaning with the effort. "… but I'm alive, and I guess I'll take that any day…"

Lucina looked down and let out a sound that was half-sob, half-chuckle, though whether it was from relief or as a reaction to his poor attempt at a joke the tactician didn't quite know.

Robin looked up at her curiously. "Why…?" he croaked out, voice cracking as another bout of pain shot through his torso.

The cerulean-haired girl lifted her gaze from the ground to regard the tactician with a look of confusion.

Robin swallowed and tried again. "Why are you here? Weren't you…"

"That would be my doing, Bubbles," another voice cut in.

Robin craned his head over to see Gaius emerge from the shadows of the corridor. "Did just as you asked and brought help from where I was sure I could find it."

The tactician turned to Lucina, who nodded in reply at his unspoken question.

"Worry not, Sir Robin. Exalt Emmeryn remains unharmed," she assured him. "There were several who attempted to get to her, but L – Kris and I were able to keep her safe."

Robin let out a sigh, some of the tension easing out from his body, before it gave way to another groan.

"I see…" he said, before looking past Lucina at the thief respectfully standing a few steps away. "By the way, Gaius… if you don't mind doing one other thing for me, would you mind finding Chrom and letting him know I'm fine…?"

The thief snorted. "That'll cost you extra," he replied, though the cheeky grin plastered on his face let the tactician know that it was – probably mostly – meant as a joke.

That didn't mean Robin wouldn't make sure the ginger-haired thief would cooperate.

"Look, if you hurry, I'll put in a request to the kitchen for some sugary treat as your reward," he said, almost chuckling when the thief's eyes lit up at the words 'sugary treat'.

The ginger-haired thief tossed him a salute. "Done!" he said quickly. "Just stay right where you are, Bubbles. I'll be back before you know it."

This time Robin _did _laugh, and he did so rather heartily as the thief disappeared down the hallway with a rather noticeable spring in his step.

"That was well-handled," Lucina complimented, reminding Robin that the girl was indeed still here with him.

The tactician gave her an appreciative smile. "I said so earlier, didn't I?" he said. "So long as I can keep finding ways to sate his sugar needs, he'll behave."

Lucina returned Robin's smile with a charming one of her own that had the white-haired tactician nearly gasping at how the simple gesture just _lit _her features up and added to her natural beauty.

"So you did," she affirmed, before her smile dimmed and the sparkle disappeared from her eyes.

The change in her mood did not go unnoticed by the tactician, who suddenly gazed up at Lucina with concern.

"Lucina?"

The cerulean-haired girl shook her head, sending long locks of her hair swaying with the motion.

"I'm simply glad I made it on time, Sir Robin," she replied, an emotion Robin couldn't quite identify filling her eyes. "If I hadn't, and, because of that, you… then I…"

She hiccupped before swallowing thickly, and it took Robin all of two seconds before he realized what it was he saw in those glistening sapphires.

_'__Loss…' _he realized. _'She's seen loss… and a lot of it…'_

His lips twisted downwards as he wondered how he hadn't noticed the signs before.

_'__Is that why she's so…?'_

Robin let out a small breath as he reached up to place a hand on her forearm, making her start.

"Hey, what matters is that you _weren't_ too late," the tactician said, giving her a comforting squeeze on the arm. "I'm still alive, and I owe that fact to you. So, at the very least, let's smile about that, alright?"

Lucina's sapphire eyes widened in what Robin could only describe as a look of wonder, before she gave him a tearful – if incredibly shaky – smile.

"Right… you're right…!"

Robin saw Lucina's smile waver, but still she held firm. He was sure she herself knew how fragile her smile was, and her continued bravery in smiling only served to deepen his respect for the young girl. It also made the tactician realize that her smile was a beautiful sight, and one he could only hope he'd be able to see more often.

With all the hardships she'd probably already been through, she more than anyone deserved to have something to smile about.

* * *

"Emm!" Chrom yelled, prompting Leon to turn as the Prince of Ylisse came rushing through the door and shattering the tranquility that had settled over the Exalt's residence. "Emm, are you alright?!"

_'__Seems like everything's been taken care of…' _the young cerulean-haired knight thought as the prince immediately made a beeline towards where he and Exalt Emmeryn were standing in the middle of the receiving room of the latter's large residence.

He almost let out a smile. _'Good… it appears we've made progress.'_

The prince quickly placed his hands on Emmeryn's shoulders as soon as he reached her, his worried blue eyes scanning her for any injuries.

Emmeryn gave Chrom a gentle smile. "Yes, Chrom. I am perfectly well."

"Oh, thank the gods," he whispered as he brought her in for an embrace. "Thank Naga you're safe."

The Exalt tenderly returned her brother's gesture. "I have you, Lady Marth, and Sir Kris to thank for that."

Further commotion occurred as Phila and a cadre of royal guards filed into the room.

"Your Grace, Milord!" Phila cried out as she skidded to a knee before the Exalt, the guards moving about and beginning to organize the bodies of the dead that still lay where they had fallen. "I beg your forgiveness. My duty was to protect the Exalt, and I have failed. Those assassins should have never even been allowed to make it into the castle, and yet here we–"

Emmeryn lowered herself to kneel before the distraught falcon knight. "Peace, Phila," she said. "You could not have known someone would try and strike at the palace."

Chrom snorted. "Right. Only Marth could…" he trailed off, before he took a quick look around. "Speaking of, where _is _Marth, anyway?"

"Right here."

All eyes turned to the doorway where Lucina now stood with one of Robin's arms slung over her shoulder. The Shepherds' tactician was leaning heavily against the cerulean-haired girl's much smaller frame, but he was most definitely conscious and alert.

Leon, however, couldn't help but frown at the minute differences in Lucina's usual stance. Much as she continued to remain as regal, strong, and composed as she always presented herself to be, there was something… different about her body language, like she was hiding something she'd rather nobody be able to see.

He glanced past the two new arrivals, gazing pointedly at the night sky for a brief moment to gauge the time.

'_It's not been _that _long… is her exhaustion reaching the point where even Laurent's tonic can't…?' _

Chrom was at the pair's side in mere moments, quickly taking the tactician from the cerulean-haired girl and bringing him over to rest in a padded chair.

As the prince – quickly joined by a staff-carrying Exalt – fussed over the tactician, Leon used the opportunity to quietly approach Lucina and steer her away to the side of the apartment where they likely wouldn't be eavesdropped upon or disturbed for the time being.

"Luci. Are you alright?" he asked her worriedly as he noticed a wave of exhaustion wash over her entire body.

Lucina nodded once, slowly. "… I am unharmed, Brother," she replied easily, her words taking just a little too long to come out for Leon to be completely comfortable.

"Just… a little… tired…"

Lucina's eyelids drooped as her words trailed off, and she very nearly collapsed against Leon's frame had he not steadied her by the shoulders with both his hands.

The cerulean-haired knight couldn't help a faint smile from crossing his lips.

"An understatement if I ever heard one," he replied gently as he shifted their positions so the entire length of Lucina's body was leaning against his right side. He let out a soft sigh of relief as he felt Lucina's weight press against him, letting him know that she'd allowed herself to relax her guard and not try to keep up any appearances of strength.

Naga knows she'd already stubbornly pushed herself to her limit just by insisting on taking part in the latter part of tonight's battle.

"Brother?" she called out, the vulnerability and smallness of her tone prompting him to look down.

A pang of guilt shot through Leon as he finally had the time to examine Lucina's features closely without the threat of a battle looming over their heads. Her complexion had grown more pallid than it was the last time he'd seen her before today, her eyes – while seeming to have regained a tiny bit of their former life and luster – were unfocused and highlighted by dark circles that told Leon just how little rest she'd managed to get since their journey through the Outrealms.

"… I'm sorry…" she breathed out as she blinked, tears suddenly pooling at the corners of her eyes as she did so. "I'm sorry for being such a burden… for always having to depend on you."

Leon simply held her even closer. "Don't be. You're not – and never will be – a burden."

She sniffed, almost as if the tears were about to come spilling out, but a voice cut in before that could come to pass.

"Um… I'm sorry if I'm interrupting anything, but…"

Leon's head whipped around, the hand that wasn't supporting Lucina automatically going for the sword strapped across his back before he stopped himself as he remembered where he was.

Several sets of eyes – those of the tactician Robin, Prince Chrom, Exalt Emmeryn, and the falcon knight Phila – gazed at the cerulean-haired knight with various expressions, especially given how he'd angled himself protectively before Lucina and almost immediately gone for his sword.

Prince Chrom in particular carried a look of concern and alarm as he noted just how tense the tension present in Leon's frame and stance – something the cerulean-haired knight himself was only beginning to realize.

Closing his eyes, Leon took a deep breath before letting it out long and slowly to try and bleed out some of the stress he hadn't quite noticed was there until the Ylisseans' collective attention made him aware of it.

"Um… Kris, right?" Chrom tried again, prompting a short, wary nod from Leon as he unconsciously shifted Lucina a little bit closer to him.

The Prince raised his hands placatingly. "Easy there. I just wanted to ask if there was anything we might be able to do to repay you for your help tonight and even previously. You and Marth have saved us and our friends time and time again. Is there anything I can do in return? Some favor or boon I might be able to grant? It isn't much considering what you've done for us, but there has to be _something_."

Lucina smiled tiredly from where she leaned against Leon, traces of happiness present in the faint curve of her lips.

"That you've offered is more than reward enough, Sire," she replied easily. "We have accomplished what we've come to do, and rewritten history. We could ask for nothing more than that."

Robin's features took on a puzzled expression. "Rewritten history?" he asked as he sat up just a little bit straighter. "And what history, pray tell, have we supposedly just averted?"

Both Leon and Lucina's expressions darkened considerably at the query, Lucina even moving to stand on her own power and gaze intently at the group arrayed before them.

"I mentioned this to you before, Prince Chrom, but I – we – have seen a future where Emmeryn met her end here. Tonight," she said. "What I haven't mentioned yet was that you, Sire, would also be gravely injured… and the national treasure, the Fire Emblem, would be stolen. All three of these events would lead to…"

The cerulean-haired girl hesitated, and Leon knew images she'd rather not think about were coming to the forefront of her thoughts – they certainly were in his own mind.

Robin licked his lips. "… Lead to what…?" he asked, voicing the question Leon was sure everyone else wanted to ask but simply chose not to.

Lucina looked away, an action which Leon took as a cue for him to take up finishing the rest of their story in her stead.

_'__There's no need to have her remember more than she has to…'_

"The events of tonight would have led to a great war, one that would have split Ylisse in two were it not for the heroic efforts of a select group…" the cerulean-haired knight quietly continued for Lucina. "However, that war would only be the opening act in a series of events that would lead to the end of the world – to the end of _mankind _– as we know it."

He then chuckled hollowly. "… Of course, I wouldn't blame you for thinking that everything we're telling you now sounds like absolute madness."

A pregnant pause followed his declaration, one that would only be broken by the white-haired tactician leaning forward in his seat and gazing at the pair intently.

"I admit it does seem a little… farfetched," Robin started, no doubt choosing his words carefully.

Leon heard Lucina gasp, his sister no doubt imagining that the words to follow would be the tactician's admission – however reluctant or otherwise – that this was probably as far as hiss trust could extend.

The knight closed his eyes. _'I… can't blame him, really…' _he thought. _'If it wasn't for the fact that I _lived _through what we're saying, even I might have a hard time believing our story…'_

If this was where he decided to draw the line, then…

"… But that doesn't mean I won't trust in your words."

Leon's eyes snapped open, the young knight unable to keep the surprise from his features as he regarded the tactician with a look of sheer confusion.

Robin smiled, before glancing at Chrom. "Isn't that right, Chrom? Exalt Emmeryn?"

The blue-haired man nodded. "Right. As strange and as unbelievable as your story may sound, Marth, you've proven your trustworthiness to me – to us, really – time and time again."

Emmeryn offered the pair a reassuring smile. "As my brother has already mentioned, we owe you two a debt of gratitude," she added. "While our continued faith in you may not suffice to fully repay that which is owed to you for everything you have done for us, I hope that someday we might be able to do so."

Lucina shifted on her feet, prompting Leon to gently place an arm around her shoulders and give her a comforting squeeze.

"Perhaps one day, you will," she said with the faintest of smiles before she turned her gaze up to Leon. "Shall we?"

Leon nodded even as he noticed something off in her eyes, and gently began to steer Lucina towards the door before he quickly noticed that she wasn't taking any steps, her feet instead shuffling about unsteadily as if trying to find proper purchase on the floor.

"Luci…? What's wrong?" he whispered, before his eyes widened in sudden realization and he quickly shifted his position so he was standing before her.

Leon was not a moment too soon as Lucina pitched forward, the cerulean-haired knight managing to catch the smaller girl's entire weight using his own body. He stumbled back from the full-on contact, shock coursing through his system as thoughts quickly began to process in his mind – thoughts that the only things keeping her standing at all were his frame and the arms that were currently wrapped protectively around her shoulders.

_'__Luci!'_


End file.
